Here are the players:
Matt - Husband and knowledgeable superfan
Adam - Matt's brother and knowledgeable superfan
Dana - Less interested sister who likes to wear purple and gold
Five kids ranging from 2 to 9 years old
Since it is like Christmas morning for my husband, he is up at the crack of dawn. When I walk into the living room at 7 a.m., my four year old screams "It's Geaux Tigers Day!" and the pregame mania begins. Just like the day he proposed, Matt behaves so strangely that the twins pick up on his energy and act wild all morning. They never actually fall asleep for their nap, so the crazy continues where it left off when I finally let them out of their cages, I mean, cribs. Of course, the Oklahoma/Houston game is on before ours. We are all watching in disbelief. It's like witnessing a disaster on TV. Everyone is holding their loved ones close and feeling thankful it isn't happening to them. Little do we know that it is an omen of what's to come.
Once the channel switches over to the LSU game, I brace myself for the onslaught of complaints from my husband over the choice of sportscasters and officials. Apparently, this guy Levy once accidentally said "bulging dick" instead of "bulging disk." That is funny, and I make sure to pay extra attention in case it happens again. There doesn't seem to be the usual conflict of interest with any of the officials. According to my husband, 99.9% of all college refs are Bama fans, so this is a small miracle.
It's the start of the game, and Matt and Adam take their positions as coach and assistant coach by standing to the left of the TV with their arms crossed. There is something immediately wrong with kickoff. "Why is Guice still covering kicks? Who is 51, a walk on!?!?" The ball is still in the air as their first round of critiques begin. A Cajun name is mispronounced within five minutes. First, there was a bulging dick, now we have a guy on our team named "Gat-Cheow." At this point, I've already lost count of how many times I've heard my husband say "he looks big." Should I be worried? Within six minutes of play, they are shaking their heads in disgust over the play calling.
"It's like they don't even try."
"Have they ever even practiced these plays before?!?" It's only the first quarter, and I'm having flashbacks of last season. Time to zone out for a bit.
The four year olds are putting lipgloss on everyone. It's perfect timing, because as we all know, it's hard to feel good if you don't look good. Yay! Tiger defense intercepts in the end zone, and LSU is throwing AND catching the ball! My husband yells out, "More lipgloss!" Again, worried? Adam refuses the lipgloss, and we are back to playing horrible. Thanks, Adam. There is a lot of talk about the offensive line being awful and Harris needing more quick throw plays. This is the moment I bring the twin two year olds into the living right room, so who knows? The mood quickly declines from here. There is a lot of yelling from child and adult alike. I'm contemplating putting on my headphones. Hallelujah! The half is over.
The second half starts with more head shaking and eye rubbing. My husband keeps saying, "I just don't understand." I remember that Matt promised our oldest that he would put on his Olaf onesie pajamas if LSU is losing at halftime, so I remind him. For the first time in forever (see what I did there), my husband doesn't want to try to change the outcome of the game with a costume change. I have never known my husband to pass on a chance to wear onesie pajamas. I'm scared, because this means he knows it won't matter. Then, there is a pick six, followed by awesome defense and a touchdown! Adam has been holding a slinky while all this is happening, and now a two year old is screaming for it. He refuses to hand it over.
"Sorry Stella, this is bigger than you." Dana says she'll keep Facebooking since that’s what she was doing when they started playing better. Keep up the good work, sis.
As we go into the last quarter, I'm feeling pretty confident that we are going to pull this off, so I order pizza and try to keep the kids from killing each other. Adam must be feeling the same way, because he lets Stella have the slinky. The game takes a turn, and I swear I see him try to take the slinky back. They are upset about the bad play calling and poor coaching, but I'm appalled at Matt and Adam's inconsistent superstitious behavior. Now, everything is going wrong. One player is "blocking air" while another is running in the wrong direction. Matt is becoming jealous of Wisconsin’s offense.
"Their receivers catch everything."
There almost appears to be chance until the interception. And just like that, we've lost the first game of the season.
Matt and Adam spend a good ten minutes discussing which of their high school coaches should replace Miles, while I try to figure out what signature cocktail goes best with a disappointing season.