Tailgating Harmony

My husband and I enjoy going to the area college football games at James Madison University. We’ve done that ever since our middle daughter decided to go to JMU back in 2003 in order to play in the Marching Band, which we grew to love greatly.

Now, I don’t know a whole bunch about the ins and out of football but I do know when to yell and cheer and often follow the player who is running with the football, and sigh if something doesn’t go right. I also get tears in my eyes every time the band comes out marching on the game field.

At this point in our lives, we are riding an ADA bus (for retired folks or those who have broken legs etc. and need help.) This also involves arriving very early, especially on Homecoming Day. So we sat in our own car for at least 1-2 hours and while I did have a book along I could have been reading, I was watching the two people across from us cooking food on a small grill (of some kind, it used fuel, not a match) and the husband appeared to be fixing breakfast. It was early and I was intrigued. Mosey gal that I am, I was wondering if there would be other people coming to this small conclave, or would it be larger. They certainly seemed to have enough food for the army over there, and then some: stacks of bagels, drinks, eggs, sausages, snacks, cookies, etc. I started getting a bit hungry, but we didn’t know them, at all. (We did have two edible donuts in our own Prius. Yay.)

Finally an older woman, warmly dressed, got out of the van and then a bit later, an older man did also. Ah! So there were parents besides the man and woman preparing the food. I swallowed and watched. That means they were grandparents, probably, coming to enjoy homecoming.

A bit later, maybe an hour or so, some teenagers or college kids arrived, and I finally figured out that their daughter had come to the game (not sure if she attended JMU or not, but a likely guess). A young man also came by. The daughter gave her dad the longest hug I had seen in a while, and it did my heart good. Tears actually puddled in my eye. How sweet, how wonderful. The young man seemed to toss back and forth through some friends in other tailgates, which wasn’t surprising. I mean, young men don’t normally hang on their Dad’s neck for a good 30 seconds.

In another 10-15 minutes, the word had gotten around, I guess, that there was good good food at that tailgate table across from our car, and I’m guessing there were 20-25 kids checking in, hugging necks or at least putting one arm around a shoulder. The grandparents got involved hugging as well, and I was happy. Happy to know that kids still love their parents (mostly) and parents enjoy their kids. Eh? Usually!

Who cares about a football game? Across the U.S. and globe, usually, men, women, girls, kids, grandparents and great grandparents gather on Saturdays or other days to get together and enjoy friends, family, and guests.

P.S. We won this one. Who cares, really, about the outcome. Hopefully men and women, boys and girls, friends and not friends, enjoy a camaraderie of sorts. Right? The world is big, and we, likewise, need to be big and loving and happy as much as we can.

And above, here’s the sweet group I saw, (I fudged getting a photo), so you can live the dream also. I was peering through our windshield. It was fun. (If you count how many people are in the photo there are 10 people in this one; a large group was seen a bit later.)

I still enjoy football games. Do you?

Why or why not? (And that’s okay by me!)