How I learned the game I love so much

On Sunday morning, like I do each morning, I unplugged my security blanket cell phone to put into my pocket.  When I unplug my cell phone it turns on the screen allowing me to see all the important messages, game alerts, missed calls, and tweets that I missed while sleeping.  Sunday's screen showed me tweets from my sis-in-law that she had posted the night before while watching football.  Huh?  Who would have ever thought I would type that sentence.  But apparently from what I gathered from her tweets, she was watching Notre Dame football and learning about the game from my brother.

• @Goreheadswife:  "Watching ND put the beat down on Miami along side hubby as he tries to teach me the game. I love his patience."  

 Had I seen this tweet the night before I would have replied with

• @cmkerwin:  "He taught me the game as well...a long time ago.  I don't remember patience being one of his virtues then, but @rustoleum68 is the man."

My brother and I grew up in a household of sports players and watchers.  If you weren't an athlete, you had to be an athletic supporter (quick, name that movie!) as we watched all sports that graced our television.  Sundays were football at noon and golf in the late afternoon.  Back in the day the Colts played in Baltimore and Indiana was known for basketball.  We got the Steelers game on the tube along with obscure teams like the Dolphins and the Cowboys.  I picked the Steelers as my team while still in elementary school because I could watch them every Sunday, and every Sunday I sat in our living room cheering on the black and gold.

Fast forward years later.   We were on a rode trip in the station wagon to Pennsylvania and my brother was playing football on his Mattel handheld electronic device.  It made beep sounds and maybe even talked a bit and it drew my attention away from my book.  I agreed to play my brother and in the process of punching buttons and acting like I knew what I was doing I got a first down and realized that I could keep playing.  I did the car equivalent of jumping up and down in my seat because I got to continue keeping my brother from the his turn.

Rusty:  "You're suppose to get a first down.  If you get a first down, you keep playing just like in real football stupid."  (I don't really remember the conversation verbatim, but he was always calling me names so I'm sure somewhere in here was name calling)

Me:  "I don't even really know what that means, except you can't go."

Rusty:  "What do you mean you don't know what it means?  You watch football every week.  Don't you know what you are watching?"

Turns out I didn't.  But I was good a faking it, obviously.  My brother was appalled and so he set about teaching me the game of football on the handheld electronic gadget.  He explained to me the goal of downs; try to get down the field ten yards at a time to keep the ball.  I learned that each team got four downs and that if you didn't make your yardage on the fourth down then the other team got the ball in that position on the line.  Ah, no wonder the teams punted.  My brother groaned, shook his head, and kept on teaching.  Had he had a phone back then he would have texted everyone he knew alerting them to the fact that his sister was a football faker.

I learned positions of players.  I learned about the line of scrimmage.  Suddenly why Terry Bradshaw was calling a passing play over a running play made sense.  What a fascinating game!  By the time we got to Pennsylvania I was not only full of knowledge on the game of football, but I was kicking his butt on the handheld game.  The game of football was now so exciting to watch and I was a part of things instead of playing the part.  I owe my love of the game to my brother, and I had forgotten all of that until I read my sis-in-law's tweet.

Of course, football was obviously in my blood before all of that since I chose a winning team to follow and back.  Alas, my San Diego Chargers fan brother could have learned a thing or two from me, but as usual he didn't take my advice.  Hmpf.  Or...secretly did he?