Super Bowl Sundays

Growing up with my two parents and two older sisters, I took in the scenes of life from that last kid position. I also had many distant cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents that were considerably older than my immediate family that made impressions on me, too.

In my household of five I was the one little boy, and how does football invade the life of a youngster? Television, primarily, yes, but I would say folklore and culture do it in a large measure as well. Family. Friends. Environment. Happenstance.

What do all those larger than life helmeted warriors leave on the impressions of a child? And on those who surround him? On the way they talk and react? I think that it is powerful stuff.

We were always a church attending family. All my life, that was just what was expected. Sunday mornings, and back then, afternoons, too.

And the conversations in the vehicle on the way to and fro added to the expections or anticipations of football. Little kids soak up these on-the-way discussions. Neither here nor there, but omnipresent in the long term memory. And perhaps the overall thought process.

I was the one who was relegated to the back of the car, like the station wagon or the VW Bus before that. I could ride up front, also, but in between the front seats on a tool box. That was the vehicle my dad used for his electrical work.

I recall my one sister predicting that she would be the owner of the Pittsburgh Steelers one day.

Super Bowl Sundays in the 1970s became a big deal as I realized what was going on.

For some reason I got a Los Angeles Rams vest when I was small. Those sporty sleeveless puffy vests, this one had the cool Rams logo on the chest. And I liked the colors. I think that the Rams made it to the big game in 1977 or so. They were also featured in a movie I watched at my cousins', "Heaven Can Wait". (Warren Beaty).

But mostly I always remembered the Steelers versus the Cowboys. Who did dad want? Who did my sisters want to win? Who did I prefer? 

A big party one year was at my mom' s friend's house in Ellettsville, the small town outside Bloomington where Bobby Knight lived. It was a big family party type thing, mostly members from our church, and I remember that a lot of people didn't watch the game very much.

At least not the television in the down stairs.

Dan Marino's Dolphins lost to Joe Montana.

One for the ages.

And then came young adulthood, and things and people became more real as those "big people" things came closer into focus and more proximate to grasp.

High school kids we knew and loved or hated were college football prospects. College players across town and on TV were pro prospects.

And then college.

And then work.

And family.

And we are all back to square one, driving to church again.

Got kids of my own.But they are still too little to care. And we do not watch much live TV.

But not for too much longer, I think.

I hope I can get them there.

To the Super Bowl.

To church.

Super Bowl Sundays with family.

And maybe a few friends. And get them home safe, no matter who they want to win or own someday.

PapaClinch