My niece’s boyfriend played in his last home football game Friday night. I wanted to attend this game for two reasons. One, I wanted to show my support for my niece and her boyfriend. Two, my brother-in-law drives his motorcycle around the track every time they score a touchdown. I just had to see this spectacle which includes the school mascot, a panther, sitting behind him waving a large school flag as he races around the oval.
Friday after work we headed to the game which was over two hours from our home. We traveled through many small towns on the way and saw many sites that made me smile. In one small town we found ourselves in the midst of a parade. To get to our destination we had to cross the parade route, so my husband did. We passed right between two firetrucks. I leaned out my window waving and taking pictures of of the young people on top of the firetrucks. I wonder what they were celebrating.
We finally arrived at the football game. My sister’s family, our children and two grandchildren met us there. We sat on the grass rather than the bleachers so the kids could run around. At the end of the first half our team scored and I started cheering. Then I realized I had a slight problem. My granddaughter was sitting in my lap and I had to figure out how to get a picture of the motorcycle ride while juggling my granddaughter. I placed her on the ground leaning her against my legs, grabbed my camera and waited for the big motorcycle ride. Then I waited some more. I started calling to my brother-in-law telling him to go. He shook his head.
“What?” I thought. I drove all this way to see him ride and he was shaking his head. Then he shouted, “The band.” “The band?” I turned to see that the band had moved onto the track preparing to take to the field for their halftime show. Are you serious? I called to my brother-in-law telling him to go the other way. Then I heard crying. I looked down. My granddaughter looked up at me with big tears dripping down her cheeks. I had frightened her with my shouting and jumping. I immediately came back to my senses. I picked her up and kissed her and snuggled. I no longer cared about seeing the motorcycle ride, nothing was as important as this precious little one.
The band didn’t move and my brother-in-law did not ride. Oh well. We stayed for the halftime show and then left as the third quarter was starting. We were headed to my sister’s house to put the kids to bed. About one mile from the field my brother-in-law called to tell me that I missed his ride. The team had scored a touchdown just after we left and he had ridden with the flag waving so violently in the wind that he had a hard time seeing where he was going. I would have liked to see that but as I helped our grandchildren get ready for bed and tucked them in I thought that this is what I truly would never want to miss.