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Football paradox

I don't watch football, but I love football.

It's a long story. .
I confess that most sports leave me pretty disinterested. The whole point of football is always to get the ball into the end zone; in baseball, it's getting the runner back to home plate; basketball, the ball goes through the hoop; in soccer, you have to put the ball into the goal. So at a fundamental level, the game never changes. To me, it's just not that interesting.

But, to some people it is. My husband and my son both love to watch football. They may be more than 30 years apart in age, and a generation (at least) apart in outlook, but they both love the game and count the days until football seasons starts.

Washington, DC is Redskins country (I know it's not a politically correct name. I think they should either change the name or change the mascot to a potato.), and the fans here are real die-hards. Literally—to get season tickets, someone who has them has to die.

But you can get preseason tickets, and my sons recently bought two tickets so he and his dad could go to see the Redskins play the Ravens at FedEx Field. My husband hadn't been to a game in years, maybe decades. He had never been to FedEx field. Since another shared love of the two of them is beer, I offered to drive them and pick them up.

However, getting a ride to the game is not the norm, unless you count buses. Most fans drive and pay big bucks to park in a series of enormous parking lots, which then take hours to empty out after the game. I did some research online and found out that the Morgan Boulevard station on Metro's blue line was "only a 15 minute walk." Rather than make them actually take the Metro, I planned to drop them off and pick them up at that station.

Dropping them off was easy; we left early enough that we beat a lot of the game traffic. But then a big storm blew through Landover and the game was delayed. They emptied the stadium because of lightening; even though their seats were covered my guys had to wait in the concourse for an hour. Fortunately, the beer stands were open.

The game started eventually, their seats were good, and things looked great for our heroes until another storm blew through. More lightening, more concourse time, and finally they called the game at about midnight.

Meanwhile, I've negotiated turning into the Metro station parking lot--which is blocked off once the game is likely to let out--and I'm sitting literally and figuratively in the dark. It seems that in the dark of night, with the rain pouring down, two guys who've had a few beers might not be as good at finding the Metro station as they might have thought, especially when each person they asked gave them different advice on which way to go. Thank God for cell phones so I at least knew they hadn't been mugged. That 15-minute walk took more like 45 minutes.

But even soaked to the skin (luckily I had brought towels), tired and hungry, they were still happy. The game had been good, the Skins played well, and the beer stand sold Red Hook.

Who could ask for anything more? They plan to go again next year. We'll get the drop off thing worked out, and pray for better weather.

Football was made for fathers and sons.

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