Of course the game in question was not exactly an instant classic. It started out strong and I thought we were in for a shootout, and the Vikings’ halftime lead had me slightly worried about the predictions I made yesterday, but then the second half was really fireworks-free. I’m sure if I had ever played football myself or if I were more of a dedicated student of all the nuances I would have seen more noteworthy happenings on the screen, but as it was I found it pretty easy to turn the game off as the third quarter came to a close, because it was getting late and I was getting sleepy and I didn’t think I’d be missing much.
We actually ended up turning the game back on, as it went, but that was because of completely unrelated factors. The little guy had his two-year-old well child checkup yesterday and happily is fine and healthy and in either the 50th or 75th percentile for all the measurable developmental stuff. He occupies 34 and ½ inches of vertical space at this point and allegedly there’s an old rule of thumb which says you can predict someone’s adult height by doubling their height on their second birthday, so a perfectly respectable 5’9” (I’m 5’8”). He also got two vaccinations during the visit, including the flu shot. Which of course meant that shortly after my wife and I had turned off the football and turned in for the night, the little guy woke up with miserable flu vaccination side-effects including a mild fever. I admit at first I thought it was a random wake-up and he was only warm from having been under a blanket, but when I was only able to soothe him back to sleep for a matter of minutes before he was wailing again, we went through the whole drill of taking his temp and administering ibuprofen and then trying to figure out how to get him back asleep because yowza was he WIDE awake as midnight approached. My wife and I brought him back to bed with us and turned the football back on and tried to convince the little guy to lie down and relax, but he just wanted to play. So when the game ended we turned it off again and in the complete darkness and relative quiet of our room we hoped the little guy would drift off, but he just wanted mostly to slap and kick me. Eventually, after several attempts, we got him back in his crib and back to peaceful slumber. But dang.
So I more or less watched the vast majority of the game, but if I haven’t already made it abundantly clear, it wasn’t last night’s athletic contest in and of itself that was the cause of celebration in our house, but what it represented: the football season as a whole, and the return of a time of year that my wife and I agree is awesome. I did find it a little bit strange, as I watched the opening minutes unfold in the Superdome, that I was still looking at the performances of individual players from a fantasy football perspective, even though true to my word I am not doing the fantasy thing this year. For multiple seasons I had Reggie Bush on my roster, and when the Saints came out with the passing attack from their first series, I had a twinge of “gah!” which I had to remind myself was epically unnecessary. I’m hoping by the middle of the season it will fade.
Also early in the game I teased my wife for changing the channel when they went to commercial, because COME ON! The commercials take up a significant chunk of pie-chart real estate in the answer to Why I Love Watching Football; the Superbowl ads get all the press but plenty of long-running ad campaigns fire up new installments specifically to coincide with NFL coverage starting in the fall. The pickings were pretty slim, but I was happy to see yet another edition of the Coors Light guys at the coach’s press conference, not that they broke any new comedic ground but it’s always nice to see familiar and potentially amusing faces. (I especially liked the post-tagline bit with “Finish this sentence …” “Period!” “Well played.”)
Speaking of commercials, I’ve been meaning to work this in somehow, but haven’t found a passable segue until now: ok so remember not too long ago when I was talking about the DC Comics animated short starring the Spectre and how I loved it as much for how it evoked the lo-fi 1970’s technology and the aesthetic of that milieu and all that? In hindsight I suppose that’s part of a larger trend which hit its height with Grindhouse a few years ago and is no doubt nearly played out but it still works for me, so it may go without saying but the new Absolut ads done up to look like 1970’s trailers for Lemon Drop?
I approve. Not that the ads are going to sell any more vodka to me personally, because Absolut was already my go-to vodka even though vodka is not my go-to hard liquor, and I’d have to say current supply levels in the house are acceptable as I host far fewer cocktail-heavy parties these days. Just like Coors Light ads are not going to make me buy any Coors Light whatsoever because Coors Light is wretched undrinkable pap. But I do appreciate the slight effort put into making these advertisements appealing to my entertainment sensibilities.
On a final note, I know I haven’t written much lately about my officemate Mr. Gregarious, and that’s partly because he’s been toned down ever so slightly by getting more into the groove of his job now that he’s not brand new here, and partly because what hasn’t been toned done completely is just more of the exact same own-voice-loving boorishness as always, nothing interesting enough to immortalize here. But I will make an exception today because it relates directly to last night’s football game, and because it’s slightly more bizarre than usual.
I got to work this morning and Mr. Gregarious was already at his desk, so I said “Good morning” and he said “Good morning” and then less than a beat later he said “Well I only watched about half the game last night but I guess the Saints beat the Vikings 14 to 9, so good for them.” To which I could only say “Uh … yeah.” I mean, who does that? I’m no conversational prescriptivist, I like shaking up people’s expectations as much as the next guy, but I believe the customary opener is “So, you see the game last night?” And that’s not even really a guy code, sports-specific signifier, because this is, like, Human Interaction 101, right? You lead with a question and gauge from the answer to what extent the other person is up for talking about whatever’s on your mind. Mr. Gregarious conducts himself at all times as if the whole world is just absolutely dying of curiosity to know what’s on his mind, and that an invitation to hold forth on it is permanently implied. And yet at the same time he uses the pulpit he assumes the world is begging him to assume to deliver the most banal commentary possible. It’s hard to convey here on the screen but the way he said the names of the teams and the score, it was like he was trying to prove to me that he followed football and that he is in fact a Well-Informed Dude. If I were trying to mount the case that my co-worker was not, in fact, human, but rather some kind of experimental simulacrum created by aliens, I would have some serious data to add as of this morning.
No comments:
Post a Comment