January 11th, 2006

waiting

another boring anecdote, sports related!

On my fifth viewing of the last minute of the UT-USC game today--as my father and uncle are unaccountably addicted to rewatching the entire damn thing - I totally got why rewatches are so damn cool.

Thing is, I am not a football person. I went to a high school that made football a religious experience--and hi, anyone who survived a Texas public high school knows about that--and I was a JV and JH cheerleader, marching band, etc, because well, I went to a small school and there really wasn't that much to *do*. And they're relatively short, compared to the college and pro level. You got on your tiny skirt, burned off a lot of energy jumping up and down, you get the good seats on the bus to out of town games, and there are nachos and getting out of last period early. There is no bad in this. Of course, I'm the only cheerleader who also always had a pretty good excuse on why I couldn't wear my uniform to school for the day, becuase showing that much leg freaked me the hell *out* and I was only thirteen. Seriously, I was five foot eight by then; my legs were over half my body height. It was not of the fun.

And we? Had a really, really bad football team. By the time I was in high school, we--really, cannot talk about it.

However, we had a kick-ass marching band, excellent twirlers, a state level qualifiying girls basketball team, and some of the highest school scores in the state for our size, so really, it's not like we weren't good to go.

But. That last minute of the UT-USC game--even though I know how it ends, even though I know that the nineteenth second is the kicker, even knowing how it ends, how everything changes--damn did I lose my breath. I always do at the end, and some of it is generalized connection with my state, but a lot of it is memory.

There was this one basketball game, when I was in junior varsity. It wasn't a huge one, just part of the season, but two of our starters were doing rotation on varsity, and so I'd been moved to start, and our coach was off doing something, so the high school football coach was our coach.

Let me say this again--high school football coach.

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