Ahhh, the beginning of football again. I wasn’t sure if I’d make
it this year without pulling out my sacred 1997 video,
”
Reggie White: Minister of Defense,
”
for a special pre-season, pump-the-adrenaline viewing.
Ahhh, the beginning of football again. I wasn’t sure if I’d make it this year without pulling out my sacred 1997 video, “Reggie White: Minister of Defense,” for a special pre-season, pump-the-adrenaline viewing.
For the second year in a row, I’m proud to say, I didn’t have to watch a corny football video to feed my dependence.
That dusty videotape, for me, is like The Patch for smokers. You don’t really like it, but it keeps you relaxed until you break down and smoke two packs of Marlboro Reds, every day, for six straight months.
I brought my football fixation to Hollister two years ago when I moved from a place – Green Bay Packer country – where Sunday is a holy day, but only February through August.
In the past two years of observational research here in Hollister, along with many prior years of the same elsewhere, I’ve learned that people have widely varying views on the start of another football season.
For the average Joe and Suzy here, it means reserving a few hours on late Sunday mornings to watch the 49ers or Raiders. Which, of course, is routinely followed by two-hour cleaning sessions – a mandatory compromise of any strong marriage.
And that’s fine and dandy, sitting on the couch and caring as much about the cheesy puffy snacks as the teams’ results. There were a few Packers’ seasons when my devotion to cheesy snacks often subdued the team’s sour-tasting performances. Not many, but a few.
Put simply, here’s the point (Finally, right?): There’s a major difference between Hollister residents who are football fans – and Hollister football fans.
Hollister football fans have their allegiances to the Niners, the Raiders, the Cardinal, the Fightin’ Blue Hens (of Deleware U.), the Bears, the Bruins. Whoever.
But on Friday nights under the lights, Hollister football fans – whether they cheer for black or gold on Sundays – become united Baler fans. Kind of like when all the USSR republics joined forces in 1992 and became the Unified Team for the Olympics, only without the communism thing.
For most Hollister football fans, Baler games muster a sense of community pride. Everyone, for one night, agrees on something. And pretty much everybody at the game knows more faces in the bleachers than at any other place in town. Except maybe Target.
For some parents, a new season means lots of shouting and chastizing of referees who couldn’t hear the name calling even if they weren’t wearing really fluffy ear muffs.
For some players’ parents, the inevitable moment is fast approaching when their sons will leave the field for the last time. Some moms and dads will shed tears at the final home game, and probably at others, too.
Among the old hands in the crowd, another season means sitting in the bleachers at Andy Hardin Stadium continually telling fellow strategists why Coach Cameron should change his kooky offense that restricts individual talents.
Hey, I didn’t say it. Those old guys did.
For other seasoned fans, a new season means learning new names, praising a few new stars and constantly complaining about the music selection on the P.A. system.
For the Balers themselves – the students – a new season can mean several things. For some, it’s being part of a winning tradition. It’s about cheering on classmates, boyfriends and brothers, and crying with them when the final whistle blows.
For many other students, it’s another chance to wear really baggy clothes, not enough clothes, needless sunglasses or too much cologne. Hey, if you’re Too Much Cologne Guy, stop now while you can. Because once you’re 22, you’ll never turn back.
Anyhow, just about everyone has reasons to appreciate football season. I do – and not because there wasn’t much else to do growing up in the corn fields except tossing that ball around with Pa. The only corn we had in Milwaukee was canned.
I appreciate football season because growing up, if I didn’t, my two older brothers would have beat the crap out of me.
And I’ve thanked them ever since. Enjoy the season while it lasts.
Kollin Kosmicki is an avid Green Bay Packers fan when not digging up the news in Hollister. He can be reached at 637-5566 ext. 331 or at ko******@fr***********.com.
