Gridiron Grump: Don't let poor economy ruin your Friday nights
Thursday, September 4, 2008 3:20 PM PDT
By Gridiron Grump
For The Daily News
Printable version
E-mail this articleI’ve been waiting to utter these six pristine words for, well, about the past nine months, my loyal Grumpies.
These words are music to my wrinkled ears — like the perfectly tuned horn section of the Lawrence Welk orchestra.
Six simple words that mean so much to those of us who’ve been wandering the sidelines of CowBlitz County for the past decade or so, soaking up the top-notch head-knockin’ that elicits so many oohs and ahhs on any given Friday night.
Yes sir, Grump Nation, I can hear those words now: “Hot dogs are now half price!”
Yo! Wait! Stop the presses!
Actually, that’s my second-favorite Friday night six-word sentence, with “the bathrooms are over there, idiot!” running a close third.
I can hear ’em NOW: “Are you ready for some football?”
Yep, yours truly gets a chill in his spleen every time ol’ Hank Jr. belts out that slap-knee, slack-jaw tune. It even has been known to bring tears to this old leather-skinned geezer’s eyes, although sometimes it’s difficult to tell whether it’s Hank’s song or just the onions on my pregame chili dog.
Either way, it’s football season.
And it’s time to pay tribute to our fighting pigskin warriors by purchasing a ticket — or many, many tickets — to a prep gridiron matchup near you.
You got it, Grumpies. That’s my preseason challenge to every last one of ya. Break open the piggy banks, check the couch cushions and the bottom drawer of the night stand. Rustle up as much loose change as you can find, combine it with the cold, hard cash you had stashed away for the “Hillary in ’08!” presidential campaign this fall and ... presto!
It’s nonstop fall entertainment, courtesy of those young men in shoulder pads.
Hey, the Grump knows times are tough. We’ve all had to cut back in our daily lives — maybe even lose something that’s near and dear to our fluttering hearts.
My lovely wife Eleanor, for instance, had to stop buying and making so many darn quilts. I mean, there are only so many babies that are born each year in this great country. Does every last one of them have to fall asleep slobbering on a quilt courtesy of my adorable bride?
No. Let the little poop-producing creatures slobber on something else.
Personally, I have made a massive sacrifice in the grub department this fall. Instead of watching the college football boys and the paid professionals on television while holding a bowl of melted Velveeta to dip my Doritos in, I will have to somehow make it through while holding a bowl of melted “generic-brand imitation cheese product.”
Say a little prayer for me tonight, Grumpies, because it won’t be easy.
Anyway, the point is this: Even though times are tough, we owe it to the local grid palookas to make sure we’re there to support them.
When you show up at your neighborhood stadium, you’ll hear the pads poppin’ louder than a demolition derby. You’ll see young men lay out for that ball over the middle. You’ll see them fly through the mud on fourth-and-1 at the goal line.
You’ll hear “Eye of the Tiger” by the pep band about, oh, 16 times before halftime — each time better than the last.
You’ll taste some of the finest stadium food this side of Touchdown Jesus Field on the campus of Notre Dame, including those mouth-tingling grilled burgers at Rocket Stadium on the outskirts of beautiful downtown Castle Rock.
But mostly, my dedicated minions, you’ll see football the way it was meant to be played — with passion, enthusiasm and precision.
I’m sure I’ll see ya at a game near you this season. I’ll be the one wearing the sweatshirt made from leftover quilting material.
Eleanor! Hey, Eleanor! Do I really have to wear this thing?
Gridiron Grump writes a column that appears Fridays in The Daily News during high school football season. He can be reached at gridgrump@tdn.com.
Diesel wrote on Sep 5, 2008 9:03 AM:
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