“I have a surprise for you!”
I awoke a couple Saturday’s ago to hearing these words from my wife. A surprise? Well now, this might be interesting.
I admit, I’m not really one for suspense or delayed gratification. This has caused more than a little grief to my wife on various occasions during our lives together. Being told of a surprise instantly got me to start asking questions.
“You’ll just have to be patient and find out what it is!”
She does that just to tweak me, you know.
In my head however, I had a sneaking suspicion of what this surprise might entail. Unbeknownst to her, I’m on the Cincinnati Bengals mailing list. I didn’t actually plan to be on the list, mind you, but after one innocent inquiry as to how much season tickets were I went on the Big Spenders™ list. Season tickets aren’t that expensive, really, at least not as much as I thought they would be. Given that I don’t quite yet live in the immediate Cincinnati metro area however, I didn’t cut a check for a pair. Well, that and the fact that I don’t know anyone else who’d go with me.
Earlier in the week an email went out to everyone on the list announcing a Mock Game at Bengals training camp. I may not live in the Cincinnati area, but I do live not more than 30 minutes from Georgetown College, and in fact my sister-in-law was a recent graduate of said school, so I was already familiar with it.
“Will I need sunscreen?” I began to inquire.
“I don’t know!” She replied, “Just be patient!”
So I get dressed, eat a little something, and I’m ready to go.
“Put this on,” she says handing me a blindfold.
“No, I’m not wearing that!”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll look stupid riding around in the car with that thing on.”
“ARGH. Fine. But you have to close your eyes when I tell you to. You can pretend to be asleep.”
“How long is it going to take us to get there?” By this point my curiosity was having a resurgence.
“A little while.”
“More than an hour?”
“No. Be patient!”
Foiled again.
So in the car we go heading north. My wife takes the outer belt around Lexington that dumps us out on to I75, which seemed to confirm my suspicions. It seems I’ll be going to a Bengals game.
For the past couple of years I had talked about going up to training camp. Living so close to Georgetown it seemed too easy to run up there and see what was going on. I hadn’t, however, actually…you know…gone.
I do have a valid excuse, given that I work for another college that always starts up during training camp. Getting things ready for the students to return, which happens right about this time every year, leaves little time for recreation. So, I was still a training camp virgin.
I also have never actually been to a real live NFL football game. As a child I lived too far away to attend, well, any game, Bengals or not. Now that I’m close enough to my favorite team so that driving up for a game and down again wouldn’t be that big of an issue, no one else I know actually watches football. The most the people I know say about football is how Tim Couch got the shaft. Don’t get me started on the crap I have to hear about Jared Lorenzen.
“Ok, close your eyes!”
We bounce along I75, and I see nothing with my eyes shut tight. I know where we’re going by this point, but I’m keeping up the illusion that I’m ignorant as to our destination. My wife is genuinely pleased with herself that she’s come up with this little scheme of her’s, and I’m happy to play along.
“Ok, open your eyes!”
Before me I see cars lining the road we’re driving in on. Orange and black banners hang from the light poles, and I know where we are. For the first time ever I’m actually going to see NFL football players play live, right in front of me. I’m genuinely excited.
We pay $12 for parking, stop our car, and head in to the stadium. It’s already filling up, despite us being more than an hour from kickoff. With the home side nearly full we go across to the visitors half and find a couple of good seats.
I notice a few things at this point. Chief among my observations was the sun, and how it was furiously beating down on both of us. The was no shade to be found.
My wife, wonderful planner that she is, brought along a bag with water and sunscreen. We both begin smearing it on all of our exposed surfaces, as we both tend to get burned as easily as the Bengals run defense. Having settled in, I get ready for some football.
As the opening workouts commence the players make their way out on to the field. Carson Palmer is, of course, nowhere to be found. Rudi, Chad, and T.J. are here however, so I take solace that I will at least get to watch them, even if I have to suffer the quarterbacking of Anthony Wright.
The players line up to go through their stretching exercises and I notice that there is one player in particular who isn’t really in to all of these various drills. Namely, #85. As the other players bend down, over, and around, Chad is tossing a football, making half-assed attempts to stretch, and various other things. It’s good to know he’s getting in game shape as well.
The game finally starts, and the announcers attempt to explain the scoring system used for the game over the loudspeakers. Sacks are worth one point, tackles for loss worth a point, interceptions four points, things like that, for the defense. Offense also had some scoring opportunities besides the normal touchdowns and field goals, but with the incessant mumbling of the announcers over a sub-standard system, it was impossible to hear them clearly.
Play begins with the black team on offense. In short order Anthony Wright has thrown several nice passes, including a touchdown, to TJ Houshmandzadeh. Rudi is also running well. The afore mentioned Chad Johnson however, he wasn’t having the best day.
#85 had a couple short passes for a small gain, and he looked ok. Right about as I’m thinking to myself, “When’s Chad going to do something?” he does it. Namely, he lets a pass go off his hands, tipping the ball right to the defender, who runs it back for a score.
Oops.
It would be bad enough that one pass he tipped was intercepted, but Chad wasn’t done. He also managed to tip a second pass to a cornerback who caught it for the interception. The second one, at least, wasn’t run back for a touchdown.
Despite it just being a mock game, it was fun to watch. This was the first time I had actually seen real live NFL players playing football. Now, if I can just get to Paul Brown Stadium to see an actual NFL game…
After the game was over, the mass throngs of fans crowded around the fence for autographs. Being new at this, and the fact that it was a surprise (mostly), I didn’t have anything for anyone to sign. Plus, I was starting to get a little hot. Ok, not just a little.
The sun and I, well, we tend to agree to disagree. I am definitely a fall and winter person, and while my wife enjoys the spring and summer months, she will burn very easily. We had the sunscreen, but it didn’t seem to be enough.
After driving home it was clear that both of us had a little too much sun. We had tried to use the sunscreen, as I said, but by the time we both were seated I was already starting to sweat a little bit. I would then come to find out that sunscreen and sweat, well, they don’t mix.
I got a nice sunburn, mainly around my neck and shoulders. My wife on the other hand, got a burn even worse than I did. She’s already fair-skinned, so three hours under the burning heat didn’t mix well with her complexion. Not only was she pink in some places, but she had a few areas of deep red. It wasn’t pretty.
This season, for the first time in a long time, I actually have hope for the Bengals. Carson Palmer didn’t play that day, but I saw his return game a couple weeks later, and I was impressed. He looked good, real good, and my hope has begun to spring. The season starts tomorrow. Let’s hope I don’t get burned again…