In spite of the fact that I have lived in several cities with professional football teams, I have never been to an NFL game.
So, when a vendor called and asked if Ebin and I wanted to attend the season opener for the Jacksonville Jaguars, I immediately said yes. Nevermind that my vendor is a little on the creepy side or that I think the Jaguars are terrible, I had my chance to go pro and I was taking it.
To give you a little background, my exposure to the game has been somewhat limited to the wonderful world of college football. Growing up in my father’s house, the national colors were Gator orange and blue. During the fall, the world stopped it’s revolution in space and started orbiting around the games played on Saturday afternoons. Who needed AFC and NFC when there was the SEC and the ACC? Once I went to college myself, I began to understand how the obsession develops. Everything about college football is addictive – the fans, the traditions, the dedication to something greater than contracts and paychecks. Every time I walked into the stadium, I felt IT. The tingle, the magic, and for me that’s something you just don’t get turning on Monday Night Football.
When I put going to a pro game on my list, I had dreams of half-naked men with their ever expanding beer guts painted teal and black. The game was gonna be B-I-G and AWESOME because, come on, this is the big leagues!
Unfortunately, though, the Jags just couldn’t deliver and, honestly, neither could their fans. I have never seen a group of people less enthusiased about anything. It was disappointing but I suppose I can think of worse ways to spend a Sunday. Having my leg hair plucked strand by strand comes to mind.
In the end, the Jags lost, big time, and almost everyone filed out with more than five minutes on the clock. Almost everyone except this guy:
He was too wasted to move.
See the whole set from our day at the ball park, Jaguar’s Game.