Author: Big Mama

Okay, so Janet from Life with the Wisners, mentioned in the comments yesterday that she couldn’t picture my sister getting excited about a sporting event and yes, for many years that was true. She was the Texas A&M student who would actually miss a home game to go shopping while the mall wasn’t crowded because EVERYONE else was at the game.

I know…I don’t get it. I mean I love to shop, but this is Aggie football we’re talking about.

In case y’all don’t understand the level to which she was lacking in any kind of sports appreciation, I’ll tell you a little story.

A year after I graduated from A&M, P and I drove to College Station for a football game…and to see my sister. Mimi and Bops were also in town for the game, so pre-game we all went to Deluxe to eat lunch because they have the best cheese fries on the planet and what is better before standing and yelling in the hot sun than eating a plate of greasy, potato goodness? As lunch was winding down, we started talking about walking over to Kyle Field, when my sister announced that she wasn’t going to the game because she needed to study.

Excuse me?

Not going to the game?

If we didn’t look so much alike, I would have requested a DNA test to make sure we were related.

Anyway, we went to the game while she and her friend headed back to her apartment to watch it on T.V. and study. During this particular game, one of our defensive players named Dat Nguyen (pronounced WHEN) made several spectacular plays. We cheered and yelled and celebrated as the Aggies won the game.

When we got back to my sister’s apartment, we were all talking about the game and how exciting it was, when my sister said, “Boy, it sounds like it was really windy!”

Blank stares all around.

We asked what she was talking about since none of us had noticed any wind. She said, “Well, everytime I started watching the game, the announcers kept talking all about THAT WIND!”

Really? That wind?

Or do you think maybe they were talking about our star defensive player, DAT NGUYEN?

I am not making this up.

However, everything changed for my dear sister during her junior year in college when she started dating her future husband, who, to his credit, is a huge sports fan. All of a sudden, she began attending football games, soccer games, basketball and baseball games on a regular basis. Love had transformed her and she learned to at least enjoy the social aspects of sporting events.

Shortly after her inauguration into college sports, the Southwest Conference disbanded and the Aggies became part of a new conference y’all may have heard of called The Big Twelve, which is most commonly seen as The Big XII. My sister and her future husband were watching one of the first football games of the season when she looked at him and asked in all seriousness, “What are all those signs that say BIG times ELEVEN?”

Nevermind that she was majoring in math and should have had an appreciation for the use of Roman numerals.

Needless to say, she has come a long way and I couldn’t be more proud. There is nothing that warms my heart more than when she’ll call in the middle of an A&M game and say, “Did you see that play? Can you believe he caught that ball?”, and the crowning moment was when I called her on Sunday to see if she was interested in going to the Sweet 16, and she knew exactly what I was talking about.

So, in one of the great ironies of all time, she and I will be attending the game together, while her husband stays home and babysits their 20 month old daughter, which just goes to show that what she may lack in sports knowledge, she more than makes up for in negotiating skills.

And in other Sweet 16 news, because I really can’t think about anything else, well, other than the fact that Jordin Sparks on American Idol blew me away last night. She is 17 and so poised and talented. After she sang, I turned to P and said, “Do you know what I would have been like if I had been on national T.V. when I was 17? I’d have stood there waving like an idiot yelling ‘LOOK AT ME Y’ALL, I’M ON NATIONAL T.V.!!!'” which, in truth, may not be that different from my reaction if I find myself on T.V. while at the game on Thursday.

Sorry, I wandered.

Anyway, regarding my attire for the game, I would much rather white out than maroon out. I am going to have a hard time marooning out, due to the fact that all the sporting goods stores here in town are completely covered in burnt orange Longhorn paraphernalia, as if the Longhorns are in the Sweet 16, instead of home crying in their pillows about the whipping put on them by USC. It is a sad day indeed when a great basketball school such as Texas A&M is not properly represented in the athletic apparel market. So, due to the lack of good common sense by local retailers, I will be wearing a nice, white shirt directly from my closet.

And in truth, our tickets are so high up in the Alamodome that I could wear nothing and still not get on camera.

Last night, I was up half the night because I am like a little kid at Christmas due to the fact that my sister and I bought tickets to go watch the Aggies play in the Sweet 16 this Thursday, and then, the Elite 8 on Saturday (I’m all about positive thinking). And true to form, I spent a lot of time lying awake wondering what on earth I’m going to wear to the games.

The thing about being an Aggie is you should really “maroon out” at all the sporting events, but in case y’all haven’t noticed, there is not a surplus of maroon colored fashionable items. And if I’m going to the Sweet Sixteen, I am not wearing an oversized Texas A&M maroon t-shirt because you know, I might be on TELEVISION.

Anyway, after the Aggies won on Saturday, I spent most of the weekend plotting how I was going to secure a ticket to the game. When I first looked, the cheapest tickets were $250, and seeing as how we might need to buy groceries and pay our electric bill, it seemed a little extravagant to spend that kind of money on a sporting event, even if it is a once in a lifetime opportunity considering the last time the Ags made it to the Sweet 16 it was 1980 and my biggest concern was learning to skate backwards at Magic Skate.

After trying to get through to the ticket office for an excruciatingly long time, they finally decided to answer the phone and informed me that they did indeed have some tickets available at a cheaper price. So, I called my sister to see if she was interested in spending the money to be there in person, even though it means we will be sitting so high up that it will be like watching maroon ants run up and down a matchbook cover, and because she is smart and practical like me, she was totally up for it.

In spite of all the time I spent listening to a busy signal while repeatedly calling the Alamodome ticket office, I did manage to do a few other things this weekend.

On Friday, Caroline spent the night with Mimi and Bops, which allowed me to get so much done it made my head spin. I have been behind on so many things, and once I had some quiet, I was able to get a ton of things accomplished. I also managed to squeeze in some time to go to Target to buy the cute shoes I mentioned on Friday, and pick up dinner for myself at Church’s chicken.

And just so y’all know, I didn’t feel convicted in the least seeing a woman rollerblading around the track at the junior school while I was driving home with my spicy chicken tenders, mashed potatoes and honey biscuits and thinking about the brownie I was going to eat for dessert.

Saturday morning, I was working on the computer when I heard P gasp and say, “You have got to come look at this”. It was the neighbor lady who is in the middle of renovating the house next door, and she was mowing the grass in a downright fancy ensemble.

I, personally, have spent a lifetime avoiding mowing yards, but I can guarantee that if I found myself having to mow a lawn, I wouldn’t be wearing black pants with rhinestone pinstripes, a black paisley tunic and a black cap with the words “Bling, Bling” written in rhinestones. Of course, I wouldn’t wear that outfit while doing other things either, like for example, breathing.

Ironically, the only part of her outfit that disturbed P, otherwise known as the safety police, was the fact that she was wearing rhinestone, open toe slides and kept repeatedly pushing the mower closer and closer to her exposed feet.

Once I joined P at the window, neither one of us could look away. It was a do-it-yourself foot amputation waiting to happen, and as much as we didn’t want to see it, we couldn’t close the shutters and walk away. I tried to justify our peeping tom activities with the rationale that at least we could call 911 the minute the foot came off.

Somehow, neighbor lady managed to finish mowing, with rhinestone slides and foot intact, and just as we were about to get on with our afternoon, I noticed the mailman walking into the port-a-potty set up for the construction workers who are working on neighbor lady’s house.

I asked P, “Is our mailman using that port-a-potty?” And he affirmed that yes, the mailman uses it everyday, but not to perform a biological function. He said, “Just wait for it”.

And about 5 minutes later, our mailman stepped out of the facilities, surrounded by a great cloud of smoke. It seems that he goes in there to take a smoke break during his route.

My question is, how desperate do you have to be for a nicotine fix to smoke in a port-a-potty facility used by no less than 15 different construction workers on any given day?

I think instead of making him toffee next year for Christmas, I’m going to get him a pack of Nicoderm CQ patches. It will be the gift that keeps giving.