Dear Kid,

In case you were studying (yeah, I’m laughing too) and missed the Bengals game (or in case you were watching in Spanish of which I happen to know you speak not a word [did you know they simulcast in Spanish?]), I thought I would bring you my own special brand of Broad-casting.

Kickoff through the endzone which is a touchback. Amazingly, even though it got to the endzone differently than Pi’s did, it has the same effect and Our Boys take the field on the 20. Striped dudes quickly get a first down. Sanu catches an uncatchable throw from Dalton by extending his arm three inches beyond his reach. Timeout Cincinnati (What? Why?) which turns out to be a bad idea, because they got sacked immediately afterword.

I think commentators need to change their perspective. They keep talking about “settling for a field goal.” How silly. The correct phraseology is “have the wonderful luck of scoring with a beautiful field goal” or possibly “being rescued by the kicker who managed to get points on the board when the rest of the time couldn’t.”

TD Bengals. Woot! PAT is solid. 7:0.

Kickoff, runback, penalty, bunch of plays, we almost intercept but dude was bobbling as he went out of bounds (still a good try), fourth and inches to the goal (what to do, what to do), they go for it, pass incomplete (should have let your kicker rescue you, boys), and the Bengals take over.

Your father, and several other Sycamore dads have pointed out on more than one occasion that Sir Madden says “Get the points.” Which we interpret to mean “let Pi kick the FG rather than blowing it on a fourth down attempt.” Baltimore should pay more attention to Dads and Sir Madden.

Bengals start on the not-very-many yard line. And the first quarter comes to an end.

Bengals, Ravens, commentary, commentary. Excellent D, and the Bengals get the ball back. Well, it was about to go that way. Instead, we oopsed, got a penalty, they oopsed, got a penalty. And the Ravens pay attention and allow their kicker to rescue them. 7:3.

Allergy medicine commercial makes me want to get a new puppy. Not sure that’s what they intended.

Commentator: And a new set of downs for Andy Dalton and the Bengals.

Makes me wonder if they ever recycle downs. “And a gently used set of downs for Dalton and the Bengals.”

Killer bunch of penalties (coaches will not be happy) and we punt. Bye-bye ball. Play, play.

Whistle was blown erroneously. Commentators are having a field day with that phrase. Not sure if they don’t really know what it means or if they just like the word “erroneously.” Moses supposes his toeses are roses, but Moses supposes erroneously. Extra points if you get the reference.

Ravens try a 50 yard FG. 7:6. See what happens when you listen to Papa Madden?

A few plays later, the half ends.

I’m sure interesting things were said during halftime, but I was in the kitchen dealing with the chaos there, so I didn’t hear any of it firsthand. I suspect it had something to do with the number of penalties the Bengals enjoyed.

Ravens get the ball. No biggie, because we intercept it. Woot! And promptly turn it into a touchdown. PAT is perfect. Of course. 14:6.

Kickoff. Play. Play. We intercept. BENGALS ROCK!!!

And we promptly allow Nugent to show how wonderful he is. 17:6.

Sorry. Got distracted for a minute. Turns out the Ravens decided to play football and scored a touchdown. With the two-point conversion, the score is now 17:14.

All is fine. Our boys take the ball. Nugent kicks a FG. 20:14.

This is the commercial point in our show. As in 1 minute of football, 17 hours of commercials. Rinse and repeat. Yawn.

Ravens have the ball. Hail Mary full of incomplete. More commercials. Punt. AND WE HAVE THE BALL BACK!

But wait! There’s more! Dalton loses the football (yark!), a Raven-type person picks it up and runs to the 8 before being tackled. (Officially: sack/fumble.) Next play is a Raven TD. The next play puts the Ravens in the lead. If you’re a Raven fan, you’re pretty happy right about now. I’m not. 20:21.

Come on, Bengals, time to get some more points.

Sigh. Ravens intercept. Booker is sighing too. But we have 5 minutes left (which is about 6 hours in football time), we have plenty of time left. Ravens kick a 53 yard FG (yay for kickers in general but not for this play specifically). 20:24. Some fans are leaving the stadium. Silly people.

Two incomplete passes (talk of doom and gloom by the commentators). Then Dalton rips one about 1,000 yards to Sanu! We’re on the 18. Small pass. Run goes nowhere. They want to run because there is so much time on the clock the commentators explain. So Dalton passes to inside the 10.

Two minute warning.

Did that commercial just show a guy leaving his dog alone, overnight, unplanned!!!? I hope I misunderstood because that’s just awful. Unplanned indeed.

Bengals to the 5.

Bengals to the 1 centimeter line. Ravens call time out.

Cinci to the 1 foot line. Ravens time out. Fourth and goal.

TOUCHDOWN!! THE CROWD GOES WILD. Booker sneezes. PAT perfecto.

57 seconds on the clock. 27:24. CanNOT believe people left this game early. Even those of us that might be napping are watching with mucho interest.

In case math isn’t your strong suit, the Bengals job is now to keep the Ravens out of field goal range. (See what I mean about kickers rescuing teams?)

Kick is bobbled in the endzone and the Ravens start on the 20. Two incomplete passes. Third and 10 with 47 seconds. This is so exciting! Holy @#$%@#$%. Pass complete, in for a TD, but brought back on a penalty. (It’s ok. I don’t need the couple of years that just took off my life.)

Thirty-two seconds.

Third and 20. Somebody tackle him!!! Flacco has to throw it away.

Fourth down.

Short pass. Dude runs a little but out of bounds short of the first down.

AND THE BENGALS WIN! THE BENGALS WIN! Who Dey!!! And don’t all those people who left early feel dumb now?

Nicely done, Striped Ones, nicely done.

Love, Mom

Real Bengals fans Like DearKidLoveMom.

Dear Kid,

You got one guy going boom, one guy going whack, and one guy not getting in the endzone. ~ John Madden

Tonight is the Homecoming Football Game (High School) between Our Heroes (YAY!) and the Other Team (also known as Them).

When I went to Catholic high school in Philadelphia, we just had one coach for football and basketball. He took all of us who turned out and had us run through a forest. The ones who ran into the trees were on the football team. ~George Raveling

Our Heroes (Yay!) will be wearing green (unless they are wearing black—my usual informant on the subject is doing homework and I have been told Not To Interrupt) and the Other Team (OT) will be wearing something else. Probably white.

The reason women don’t play football is because eleven of them would never wear the same outfit in public. ~Phyllis Diller

Since it is Homecoming, we expect the game will be exciting, the stands will be full, and the crowd will be loud.

There are several differences between a football game and a revolution. For one thing, a football game usually lasts longer and the participants wear uniforms. Also, there are usually more casualties in a football game. The object of the game is to move a ball past the other team’s goal line. This counts as six points. No points are given for lacerations, contusions, or abrasions, but then no points are deducted, either. Kicking is very important in football. In fact, some of the more enthusiastic players even kick the ball, occasionally. ~Alfred Hitchcock

Also since it is Homecoming, the band will be out in full force and the Court will be Crowned.

The thing about football – the important thing about football – is that it is not just about football. ~Terry Pratchett, Unseen Academicals

Note: Being that it’s a Terry Pratchett quote, it’s probably about soccer not American football. But being that it’s a Terry Pratchett quote, one can never be 100% sure. I read the book and I while I’m reasonably certain, I can’t be 100% sure.

It is supposed to rain. This is likely to dampen some of the enthusiasm.

Today I will do what others won’t, so tomorrow I can accomplish what others can’t. ~Jerry Rice

We expect that Our Heroes (YAY!) will win. Expect some degree of excessive celebration.

Anyone who’s just driven 90 yards against huge men trying to kill them has earned the right to do Jazz hands. ~Craig Ferguson

Have you ever noticed that there are a lot of football/life analogies?

The game of life is a lot like football. You have to tackle your problems, block your fears, and score your points when you get the opportunity. ~Lewis Grizzard

We will be at the football game. With any luck we will be warm(ish) and dry(ish) and celebrating the victory of the Homecoming.

Football combines two of the worst things in American life. It is violence punctuated by committee meetings. ~George F. Will

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Last night’s Battle of the Skies between the Aviators (yay) and the Comets was a rollercoaster of YAY-I’m-Going-To-Pass-Out-Yay-Arg-Yay!  Our freshman quarterback played very well although as his dad said, “He threw four touchdown passes. Too bad only two of them were to our team.”

After a very rocky start of 3 and outs and them starting strong but missing field goals, we scored (yay.) Then they scored. Tied at 7 all. Starting the 2^nd half, we scored on an interception and a recovered on-side kick. Woo Hoo! Out of nowhere, they scored twice (did I mention the interception thing?) and we were all tied at 21. (Arrrggg! How did that happen so fast?)

At fourth and 14 we call a time out for the Coaches to Discuss Options. Then we scored on a play that was clearly impossible according to the known laws of physics. Yay! When it was our turn again, we fumbled and recovered. Yay! Then we fumbled and forgot to recover. Whimper. They took advantage and scored. Whimper whimper. (It’s really amazing no one has asked me to be a professional sports writer.) Game tied at 28.

With 45 seconds left in the game, the last game of the season, the Battle of the Skies, the Rivalry of the Moment, Our Lads march down the field. Woo Hoo!!! Yeah Rah!!! Go Team!!! Only to get stopped, fourth and a LOT. But they have brilliantly (and intentionally) put the ball center field. Guess who gets tapped to kick the winning Field Goal? (Not me.) If you guess your sister, you are Most Correct. The coach lets the clock run down to 8 seconds (don’t ask me what is so magic about 8 seconds—I have no clue). The team gets ready, Pi trots out to kick (it would be about a 25 yard field goal, well within her range), the whistle blows, the snap is good, the ball is on the tee, the kick is….wide.

Stunned silence.

At least in my head.

Missing at that distance after 4 perfect PATs is very un-Pi-like.

Overtime.

We lose the toss so we start with the ball. We march straight through the Comets and score. (OK, it was a little more dramatic and difficult than that. I only lost about three years off my lifespan.) The PAT is textbook perfect.

Their turn. Our brilliant defense does its job. The Comets get a first down, but they have to work for it. Then it’s first and goal. AHHHHGGGGGGG! We stuff the QB and then on the next play we Take. The. Ball. Away.

Game over. We are victorious 35 to 28.

Chaos.

On the field.

Pandemonium. Also on the field. But in a good way.

We are jubilant. Several parents point out that Pi had the last score of the game anyway and that it was kind of her to let the seniors play just a little longer. I pretended to smile. Actually, I smiled and pretended to mean it. Glarb.

So the High School football season is over for us. I will no longer check the weather forecast for Friday nights on a daily basis. I will content myself with watching football games through the courtesy of a kind camera crew at a stadium someplace Not Particularly Close.

At least until next year.

Hope you’re having a good time in Columbus.

Love, Mom