We Beat the Spread

Inspirational song: Rocky Mountain High  (John Denver)

One of my earliest friends from Oklahoma is an accountant. Every spring she changes her Facebook profile picture to her third grade (I think) school portrait. She was very upset that day, and pouted angrily at the cameraman. It's her "is tax season over yet" face. When all of my birthday wishes came in today, I told her I hoped I didn't have to wear that expression tonight, at least until the fourth quarter of the game. At least I got that wish. We had a chance of winning our first conference game in years (yes, years), but the lads just couldn't pull out a win. As so often happens, they played three great quarters. There's always a random one in there that doesn't go so well. But, as they say every week now, what team won? The band team.

Last year I had altitude sickness on top of heat exhaustion on top of stress worrying about what made my daughter late to the game. By the time halftime rolled around, I was too wiped out to march on the field in the alumni block. I gave my spot up to my daughter who missed practice. This time I saved enough of my energy so that I had no excuse to wimp out (or chicken out, as it might have been last year). I certainly didn't have all of the fight songs memorized, but I held my piccolo straight and marched on the right foot. No one in the stands was the wiser when I mostly sang the alma mater and the middle fight song of the sequence. I had fun and didn't make a spectacle of myself.

In high school French class, we always used to write down what we thought the score would be on the weekly football games. I don't remember whether there was a prize for getting it right, like bonus points on tests or free pencils or anything. I just remember that every single time I used my birthday as the score. Sometimes I predicted we would win, sometimes lose, but always 10 to 17. For most of the second quarter, that was the score. It didn't end that way, but it always amuses me when that's the score, especially when that is the date too.

My mouth is shot, I'm tired, my ears are ringing a little extra tonight, and my lungs feel like they are full of fiberglass. But I sure had a fun birthday.