Football

I wasn't sure exactly when this subject would surface, but it was inevitable, that much is certain for anyone who knew Dad. I suppose when some plans fell through today, I took it as a golden opportunity to compose this blog. It seemed as though it's fate since this is the first game for LSU for 2022. This game would have been special for Dad - his Tigers are facing his best friend's team, the Noles. He and Goober would have been sending all kinds of texts to each other this week, and I am sure there would have been a phone call today. There would have been.

There are countless stories I could tell surrounding Dad and football. A few that roll past my mind's eye are the tailgates by the Law Building, walks to the LSU Student Union, browsing in the LSU bookstore, watching the Tiger Band come "down the hill," climbing the ramps in the north endzone to get to our seats in section 237, text messages during games we weren't watching side by side, post-game phone calls of frustration and jubilation, and most importantly, the time we spent together on so many Saturdays.

For the last two seasons, I haven't found myself "into" the games like I once was when Dad was here.  That first season, 2020, was so different anyway due to COVID. I definitely believe it was God's divine intervention that Mom and I were spared making any major decision regarding season tickets that year.  It was part of God's plan for those COVID restrictions that limited game attendance to allow us to grieve and let us tell ourselves that COVID was the reason we weren't going to Tiger Stadium that year.  Truth is, I'm not sure either of us were ready for that emotional journey that soon.

But this year, I have the desire to want to tune in to the game. I want to know the players' names again. I want to get fired up about the games. I want to schedule my Saturday events around LSU's kickoffs. I think I am at least ready for that much this season. I hope I am. I know it won't be the same. I know he and I won't talk about the games weekly like we did when he was here. I won't get text messages with hype videos he wants to share. I won't get links to Dandy Don's to read. But it's a start - to talk football again.  One of Dad's dearest friends keeps the football texts coming to me.  And I am grateful for that.  I know he misses talking football with Dad, too. Dad had a magic when he talked about things he was passionate about. And one day, I will go back to Tiger Stadium. The reality is I will never be ready for that emotional journey, but one day I will embark upon it. I will one day go to LSU's campus for a Saturday tailgate, post up in a chair with a cold beer in my hand, bitch about the heat and humidity, cross the parade grounds and pass the Memorial Tower as I enter the quad, continue the walk past Allen Hall as the sidewalk opens up to the top of the hill, make the walk through the gates and up the ramps. And instead of watching Dad's careful steps in front of me, ready to brace him if his knees caused him to stumble, I might feel his presence next to me as I find my own emotional struggle to get up those ramps again. Reaching the top level to make my way to our seats will be a story for myself, and sitting in the stands once more, I will, no doubt, feel the weight of his absence. One day I will make that journey. I will do it for him as much as it will be for me.

For now, our tickets are in the gracious hands of our "seat neighbors" in section 237. Their children now get to bring friends to the games thanks to the extra seats from us.  Dad would be happy with that. And Mom and I know that any time we decide we want to attend a game, Sean and Marcia will be ready to help us get through that emotional journey.

LSU football is part of who I am and it is part of the relationship Dad and I had. From chatting early in the week about tailgate menus, to packing and loading the cooler in the car before sunrise, I was there every step of the way. We planned vacations while we tailgated. We made weekend plans together. We told stories of fond memories.  We gossiped about family and friends. We texted or called people we thought of. We took selfies. We speculated scores and schemes of the game. We had serious heart to hearts. We had financial planning. We had laughs.  We had a lot of laughs. And when he really got to laughing, it was that whole-body laugh... his shoulders would rise and fall, his belly would expand, his eyes got smaller and squinted, he showed his teeth, and sometimes his hand would slap his knee.  His laughter had this cadence to it and it would sound like a descending scale soaring on the wind and finishing in a satisfying sigh. There was nothing like it.  And when he was laughing, I laughed harder.

There is a lot about LSU football that very few people understand ... Or rather, there is a lot about me and Dad and LSU football that is so sacred, no one except Mom know what it was all about.  Because she is in that same sacred circle. I can't begin to think what her memories entail when she thinks of Dad and LSU, but I am certain her wealth of memories would cast quite the shadow on mine. We each remember what our hearts hold on to. There is no way I can adequately express what LSU football meant to Dad, but he can tell you.  Luckily, several years back, he and I exchanged some writings. It was something I had requested of him so that I could get back to some creative writing because work was taking away my enjoyment and love for writing. I asked Dad if he would be willing to do kind of a journal exchange.  Of course, he said, "Sure babe. Dad can do that." (He always spoke about himself in the third person if he was doing something for me.) So we wrote.  Below is his entry for "football."  It's quite moving and quite telling.

"August 18, 2010"

"FOOTBALL"

"I am not just a football fan but a die hard LSU Tiger fan.  Football has always been a part of my life from early childhood as I had two older brothers who were actually pretty good players in high school.  As I progressed through the grades leading up to high school it was assumed that I would follow in their footsteps.  Alas, it was not to be!  Although I liked football, I did not have a passion to be a football player, which was probably somewhat of a disappointment to my father."

"Upon completing high school in Harrison, Ark., I departed the Ozark Mountains for the swamps and humidity of Baton Rouge, La and the campus of LSU.  Once on campus I tried out for the LSU Tiger Band and was selected to be a part of that organization.  I must say that being a Tiger Band member fueled my enjoyment of watching Tiger football and being a part of a deep tradition of being a true LSU fan in every way. The thrill and excitement of Tiger Stadium on a Saturday night is just impossible to describe, you must really experience it yourself to truly understand the mystique of Death Valley."

"Being a part of Tiger Band gave me the opportunity of marching “Down the Hill” to the roar of Tiger Fans and entering the stadium on North Stadium Drive.  I have had the opportunity to view many spectacular games in that grand old stadium and to be a part of history by being in the band is something that I will never forget.  The entry onto the floor of Tiger Stadium for the pre-game is most impressive with the salute to the four corners of the stadium being the highlight.  Then, forming the block LSU letters on the field and playing the Alma Mater and then the National Anthem with the occasional fly over of jets will always bring back spine tingling memories.  To this day, the pre-game still brings forth those memories of so many years and is sure to cause a choked up tear or two."

"I freely admit that I am a true Tiger Fan who bleeds purple and gold and mighty proud of it.  As the years pile upon me, I still get that rush in the fall when football season approaches and get the itch for the first home game of the season. I think every year may be my last but the adrenalin still pumps through my veins and I struggle up the ramps of Tiger Stadium to reach my seat and never complain that this might be my last trip with the arthritic pain attacking every joint in my body.  There are just some things in life that are worth all the pain that we suffer!"

Indeed they are, Dad... some things are worth the pain we suffer. I will return to Tiger Stadium, and I know you will be with me. Geaux Tigers!