After church I decided to tag along with the guys for lunch and football watching at Buffalo Wild Wings. Why not? I was hungry and had even worn my Colts blue sweater.
(Yes, this is an awful photo of both of us. No, I'm not sleeping, my eyes disappear when I smile. But see, there's a Colts blue sweater.)
(Yes, this is an awful photo of both of us. No, I'm not sleeping, my eyes disappear when I smile. But see, there's a Colts blue sweater.)Brad is a Colts fan, and our friend George is a Vikings fan, and well, I don't care for football much at all but I wanted some food. (I do root for the Bears, it's a Stewart thing.) After a quarter's worth of chips and chili dip, wings, and mini-corn dogs, it was time for me to go and allow them some male bonding.
I was okay with departing, more than you know. Considering my brother Jeff played football from eighth grade through college, and therefore I watched nine years of weekly pigskin tossing, it's curious I know so little about the game.
Today, I tried to focus: the Bears were on the biggest screen right near us, 
but once in a while I was distracted by the cheering from other tables for other games, and then I'd look up and another team would be on our screen and it would take me a moment to realize it was highlights from a different game (sometimes one that was featured simultaneoulsy on a neighboring screen), and I tried to watch the Colts too on a smaller TV because Brad was commenting about his game, 
and George was across from me craning his neck from his seat to see his Vikes, and he looked at me and said,
but once in a while I was distracted by the cheering from other tables for other games, and then I'd look up and another team would be on our screen and it would take me a moment to realize it was highlights from a different game (sometimes one that was featured simultaneoulsy on a neighboring screen), and I tried to watch the Colts too on a smaller TV because Brad was commenting about his game, and George was across from me craning his neck from his seat to see his Vikes, and he looked at me and said, "Isn't this great?!" 
And I just kind of nodded and shook my head sort of yes and no at the same time.
And I just kind of nodded and shook my head sort of yes and no at the same time.Seriously, it's moments like this that I need to remember when I'm teaching--
for those times when a student is seemingly not working at concentrating.
Maybe when it comes to math or reading that kid has
Sunday afternoon at Buffalo Wild Wings going on in her head...
she really wants to understand but it's overwhelming on so many levels.
2 comments:
haha! love those disappearing eyes. tee hee! I would rather NEVER watch football again, long as I live. but thats hardly realistic for a southern girl.
I grew up with a Dad that had no interest in sports at all. Well, he is an artist, so I guess that explains it. I remember on Thanksgiving, while growing up, we'd go over to his brother's to celebrate with all the extended family or they'd all come to our house. Dad would always say something to the effect of having to endure another afternoon of mind-numbing football in order to be a part of the family. As a kid, I always thought, better him than me; because there were always fun cousins around to play, play, play. But I never developed the ability to enjoy watching anything but tennis on TV and the Harlem Globe Trotters. Man, I loved them!
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