A guy took his “hair-color challenged” girlfriend to her first football game. They had great seats right behind their team’s bench. After the game, he asked her how she liked the experience.
“Oh, I really liked it,” she replied, “especially the tight pants and all the big muscles, but I just couldn’t understand why they were killin’ each other over 25 cents.”
Dumbfounded, her date asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, they flipped a coin, one team got it and then for the rest of the game, all they kept screaming was ‘Get the quarterback! Get the quarterback!’ I’m like . . . Helloooooo? It’s only 25 cents!”
I watched a few minutes of a game of American football on the telly once. The procedure appeared to be:
(a) Two lots of immensely padded chaps stand around for several minutes.
(b) They all sort of line up.
(c) Someone throws a ball.
(d) Everybody beats everybody else up.
(e) Two lots of immensely padded chaps stand around for several minutes…
I’m sure you could come up with a similarly enlightening description of cricket.
In one of my classes there is a girl who was born in Pennyslvania to American parents but lived her entire life in Mexico, as the daughter of missionaries and has come back to the United States only to attend college.
Before class started the other day, some guys were discussing football and she was dumbfounded at the things they were saying, because in her mind, “football” is what most Americans call “soccer” and she said she has trouble even saying “soccer” to mean soccer because in her mind it’s always been football.
And golf? A man in horribly colored loud pants keeps hitting a little ball all over the place with a big stick until he gets it into a little hole in the ground…oh, and noone within a mile is allowed to move or make a peep for fear that the man’s concentration will be thrown off…I prefer pocket billiards…shorter walks…
I heard or read an amusing comparison with baseball the other day, wherein the “stress” of golf was compared to the feat of hitting a hardball thrown at you at speeds approaching 100 mph with a round stick amid thousands of cheering, jeering fans…Alright, admittedly I’m one of those dyed in the wool from birth baseball fans…And yes, a 70 % failure rate at bat is considered great success!
Your catching on now. Isn’t it GREAT. And all the viewer needs is their best brew and a lazy boy recliner. eh! I will let you know later how the Cowboys did today.
Ah, but that is not true. The Quarterback can free kick the ball any time he wishes! There is also the punter (assuming you meant the field goal kicker in your comment).
the Bengals haven’t been to the Superbowl since 1991 (and they didn’t win it then)
they “threatened” to move the team several years ago, so the county “voted” to put a surcharge on our property taxes and sales taxes to build them a new stadium (there was nothing wrong with the old one)
the team couldn’t grow grass in the new stadium - they wouldn’t let high school bands play on it, and made Billy Grahamn (sp?) pay $10,000 in case his crusade “ruined” it.
when Mr. Grahamn was here, there were buildboards all over town that stated “65,000 people praying in Paul Brown Stadium - and it’s not even a Bengal’s game!”
the deal the county worked out ALSO paid for any unsold tickets for the first 2 years the stadium was open.
the county commissioners actually sued the Bengals because they stated they needed the new stadium to put a “competative” team on the field, then had records such as 2 wins a season - and the county said they weren’t trying to put a competative team on the field.
there were more Pittsburgh or Cleveland fans in the stadium when the Bengals played their teams, than Bengals fans.
So - being that they’ve won their first three games - IT’S A MIRACLE!!!
Whoops Missy, gotta correct you there. It was 1989. There are two things I remember from that game. Krumrie’s broken leg flailing around over and over again on the replays until even the commentators asked the director to stop showing it. It was just too gruesome.
The second thing was, of course, that drive by Montana at the end. In the end I had to repaint the ceiling to cover the knuckle marks I left when I punched it in celebration giving a blood curdling yell at the same time. Since it was shown live here in the UK in the early hours of the morning I’d been keeping really quiet so as not to wake the family but that moment was just too much.
(Guess which team I’ve cheered on for years then.)
I meant 'Merkan Fubble Steve. English Fubble’s easy. I’m a Lincoln man through and through (Come on you bloody Red Imps meyaat!) As a decent sorta Yellowbelly I’m willing to wish all the best to Grimsby and Boston when they’re not playing us and Scunthorpe’s now a division above so all power to 'em. In the Conference it’s Aldershot (I was born there. Yes I’m a southern softy.). In the Scottish leagues there is, of course, only one team worth cheering for… Berwick Rangers, kings (for the moment) of the Scottish Third.
