We're loyal and steadfast and true
To our colors of green and gold FIGHT FIGHT!
Yes, I know my high school fight song. No that is not the whole thing. No, "gold" does not rhyme with "true." Yes, it bugs me.
So we went to our high school’s homecoming game on Friday night. I think the last time I went to homecoming was the year after I graduated, when it was cool to go because you’re a big FRESHMAN in COLLEGE.
Karen and I thought it would be a great idea to go this year – not sure why, but whatever. We got there fashionably late – and would have gotten there sooner if we hadn’t gotten overzealous about parking and also misjudged the distance from the parking lot where we were to the actual stadium. We knew it would be pointless to try and park near the stadium, and so we saw a car turning into a parking lot and we followed them. Brilliant! We congratulated ourselves on finding a spot with no trouble – after all, we wouldn’t be stuck in traffic after the game since we’re parked right down the street. We soon realized that “right down the street” was actually “8/10ths of a mile” (we clocked it later). So after a brief hike, we made it.
Amber: “You know, I’m looking at this bridge thinking what a great place it would be to hang out and drink if you were in high school, but I’m also thinking how unstable that fence looks and how if someone drunk fell against it, they’d certainly end up in the river. How sad am I?”
Karen: “We’ve lived in Lakewood our entire lives and we still can’t figure out that where we’re parking is nowhere near the stadium? How did that happen?”
We entered the stadium and found some seats in the “old people” section. It was pretty full, and I was like “My parents are here somewhere, but I doubt we’ll ever see them.” The sentence was no sooner out of my mouth than I turned around and saw my parents. They were waving at me from about 10 feet away. We went and sat with them, further cementing our status of “SO not cool,” but they had a fuzzy blanket to sit on and also? I’m 29 – my cool factor with random high school kids went out the window YEARS ago. In fact, I was never cool, so I didn’t care.
A conversation between me and one of my 7th grade youth group girls I ran into):
Kid: “I didn’t know you were a Bear Creek fan”
Amber: “Well, I went there.”
Kid: “Really? I didn’t know that.” (Said in a tone like “wow – they had high school back then?”)
The first thing we noticed was how LITTLE everyone was. The cheerleaders looked about 12. Maybe. Even the football team was tiny, it seemed like. Karen and I kept expressing our amazement at the fact that the players seemed so small, but I think it might just be that we’re imagining her husband John and Not Boyfriend (both who were on our football team in high school) as they are now and they dwarf those tiny babies on the field. We actually kept forgetting to watch the actual game because we were busy people watching and making comments. I’m sorry, not to be all parenty or anything, but my god the girls are skanky these days. It’s like 50 degrees out and they have on tiny little tank tops that basically cover nothing. Hello? Did their parents not see them leave the house like that? Geez. Put on some clothes or something.
Karen: “I’m really hoping that I didn’t just hear that girl down there introduce that baby she’s holding as ‘my baby.’ She cannot possibly have a baby – is she even IN high school?”
Pretty soon, Not Boyfriend got there. Keep in mind, this could have been awkward for a couple of reasons: 1) he’s never met my parents and 2) I didn’t tell him they’d be there. But since he’s self conscious about exactly zero things, it didn’t phase him a bit. He met my parents and sat down as if he hung out with them all the time and fell right into our humorous family banter. Example: My mom was cheering and did this screechy kind of scream thing so I was like “Uh, mom? You’re not quite in the realm where only dogs can hear you, but you’re pretty close and also? My eardrum. Ow.” And Not Boyfriend chimes in “I don’t know, there might be a couple of dogs out there going ‘What? What?’” And he imitates a dog perking up its ears and looking around. Of course my mom just thought that was so funny. She later told me that she could see why I like him, because we’re so quick and funny together. She never says nice things about a boy I like after meeing him once. NE-VER. Even my dad had something to say, which is also weird, because he generally doesn’t say anything at all. I THOUGHT we were sitting with my parents, but now I’m just not sure.
Not Boyfriend: “Uh, we’re totally sitting in the ‘uncool’ section”
Amber: “Where did you want to sit – over there with the kids?”
Not Boyfriend: “Yeah, so they can look at each other and be like ‘uh, somebody’s dad’s here.’ I’m going to go with ‘no.’”
Karen, Not Boyfriend and I left during the 3rd quarter because not only are we uncool, but we are also old and it was getting kind of cold out there. Plus, our team was losing – therefore yes we are, as Karen pointed out “fair weather fans.” My parents stayed the whole time and it ended up that we won in overtime. Which was good since it was homecoming and also we’re 6-0 for the season and that would have been a crappy first game to lose. The game was relatively injury free except for one of the tiny little players who broke something and had to be taken away in an ambulance, thereby dashing the dreams of some girl who was SO EXCITED to be going to homecoming with a FOOTBALL PLAYER.
And lucky for us, Not Boyfriend parked basically right outside the stadium – in the DIRT because he drives a TRUCK – and so he drove us back to our car, thereby saving us the three quarter mile hike of potential danger. Because we weren’t wearing the proper shoes for that.
Anyway, the best part of the whole game was halftime (What? I will freely admit that I watch football either under duress or in anticipation of the halftime entertainment). But that’s a whole story in itself, and plus I’m hoping that the pictures of the game will be up on the school’s website in the next few days because it’s a story that needs pictures. Let’s just say it involves the Color Guard and leave at that for now, shall we?