The First Lesson in America

Inspired by my lovely friend Crazii Redhead, I’ve decided to clear away the cobwebs from my writing brain and share my thoughts with those bored enough to read. The subject of this amateur blog will I guess be the most prevalent thing in my life at the moment – the big move to the US of A.

With very little idea of where to actually start I think a good point would be the love of all loves (the thing I apparently need to learn to love very quickly) – American Football.

It is now football season so everyone who is anyone is talking about each past, current and future game and make no plans on the weekends cause the game is on! So fast I find myself in a complete football overload.

OK yes I know I am somewhat of a massive rugby fan but really there is no need in my mind to watch 4 games in one day when only one of them contains the team you actually support. I know you are interested in where the other teams come to see where your team lies in the league but is that not what sports roundup is for?

My first live game was Alabama (my inherited team) vs Arkansas (Ar-Kan-Saaw). They played at the University of Alabama. With a seating capacity of 92,012, (Newlands holds 51,900) it is pretty daunting and does give you chills when you enter the sold out stadium, everybody wearing their team colours and cheering along with the cheerleaders (yes they are real and yes they all wear too much make-up, too little clothes and for some odd reason have very 80’s bouncy hair).

But now to paint the picture of this fateful day – it was raining, but not just a little rain, but really really raining, like the rain that unless I was in a comfy business box with free snacks and red wine I would be watching the game from my couch. But no, not the Americans … they are there, in full force, in the pouring rain. They actually turn up a good couple of hours before the game for what they term Tailgate Parties, where basically they have beer in the back of their bakkies and proceed to get drunk before the game, not too much of a bad idea I guess, but really – 2 more hours than necessary in the rain.

So luckily for me the rain clears up somewhat and the sun tries to come out so we head to our seats. Upon entering the stadium I am told that I cannot take my bag in as it is too big – hello it’s a hand bag and I urge you to find a woman that does not carry an over sized hand bag and does not absolutely need everything in it! So argument lost I am forced to fish out the valuables and essentials and leave my brand new Nine West hand bag at the entrance gate! Seriously please can I rather take the option of sitting in the safety of the car holding my bag tight in my arms? But alas, I oblige and trying not to focus too much on the possibility of some grubby college kid who does not appreciate a quality bag getting their paws on my new baby, I focus on the 22 little men running, in my eyes aimlessly, around the field. I’m not even going to try explain even a little of what I learned because it is just too much for my little brain to compute but about 3.5 hours later we are leaving with “our” team winning. I ecstatically found my bag exactly where I left it and we headed off for some post game food and of course another good couple of hours discussing every play.

So until next time I say Roll Tide!