"Son, You're a Drunken Mess"
Football, of course, is a violent sport. The players smash into each other on every play. A buddy of mine once told me that the impact felt is kind of like starting at the end of your driveway and running as fast as you can into your closed garage door. The combatants are fired up and so are the fans. They say that the fans of the losing team of the Super Bowl are more apt to go home and beat their wives - statistically there were lots of beatings going on in Western New York homes in the early 90's.
And yet, it is almost acceptable behavior. People tailgate before the games, drink the $7 beers during the game and then drink some more waiting for the parking lot to clear. The drinking is fast and violent, the same way the game is played. You know how I know so much? I was there a ton of times in the '90's.
This past weekend there were better than 50 arrests at the game. There was a fatal accident attributed to a drunk driver. The names of the couple having sex in the bathroom were published in the Buffalo News. So were the names of everyone else arrested.
I caught a movie last night - The Good Life - a dark story about a kid who's life is falling apart as people around him celebrate Nebraska football. A deep, well-written story, by the way.
Anyway, the Bills went to the AFC Championship 4 times, of course. Three of those games were here in Buffalo. I went to 2 of them. Great times, full of partying and celebration. Yet it was a Miami playoff game that nearly got me into the papers.
The game was on Saturday and for breakfast I had a couple of shots and a beer. Before the game started I had at least four more of each. During the game I had a bunch more, and after the Bills romp, I high-fived strangers, and downed a couple of more beers. The guys I went with took off, finally, and I was left with a real dilemma. I had to get my car home.
I actually left the parking lot and drove about a quarter mile. Then I pulled over because I saw some lights and what I thought was a beer sign. I parked the car and walked right into the place and ordered another Michelob Light - problem was - I was at someones house.
Realizing my mistake, I went back to my car, returned to the Bills parking lot - got out of the car, threw my keys under the car, and climbed up on the hood for a quick rest. It started snowing - and it seemed as if it took way to long for the rest of the lot to clear out. Finally, as I battled sleep and the cold - I saw the saving lights of a police car. After a couple of passes, the cops stopped and shined a big light in my face.
"Having a problem?" the officer asked.
I sat up.
"Son, you're a drunken mess," the officer tried.
"Yeah, and I can't get my car home."
He asked me where my keys were and I told him I threw them under the car because I was in no condition to find them and I didn't want to be tempted to drive home.
The officer actually laughed and thanked me!
"Come on, we'll give you a ride."
It was the one and only time I've ever ridden in a police car.
"You know, you showed good judgement," the officer said.
"How about the judgement of drinking 83 beers?" I asked.
By the time Kathy picked me up at the station the cops and I were having a good old time reliving the game and my idiotic actions. It took Kathy and a friend quite sometime to locate my car and bring it safely home.
Looking back, the good feelings, the celebration, the shots and the beer could have led to something way worse. Do yourself a favor, go to the game and have fun, but win or lose remember that you need to go back to your life the next day.
Just try and make sure that your life is still intact. I just barely did it right, drunken mess and all.
And yet, it is almost acceptable behavior. People tailgate before the games, drink the $7 beers during the game and then drink some more waiting for the parking lot to clear. The drinking is fast and violent, the same way the game is played. You know how I know so much? I was there a ton of times in the '90's.
This past weekend there were better than 50 arrests at the game. There was a fatal accident attributed to a drunk driver. The names of the couple having sex in the bathroom were published in the Buffalo News. So were the names of everyone else arrested.
I caught a movie last night - The Good Life - a dark story about a kid who's life is falling apart as people around him celebrate Nebraska football. A deep, well-written story, by the way.
Anyway, the Bills went to the AFC Championship 4 times, of course. Three of those games were here in Buffalo. I went to 2 of them. Great times, full of partying and celebration. Yet it was a Miami playoff game that nearly got me into the papers.
The game was on Saturday and for breakfast I had a couple of shots and a beer. Before the game started I had at least four more of each. During the game I had a bunch more, and after the Bills romp, I high-fived strangers, and downed a couple of more beers. The guys I went with took off, finally, and I was left with a real dilemma. I had to get my car home.
I actually left the parking lot and drove about a quarter mile. Then I pulled over because I saw some lights and what I thought was a beer sign. I parked the car and walked right into the place and ordered another Michelob Light - problem was - I was at someones house.
Realizing my mistake, I went back to my car, returned to the Bills parking lot - got out of the car, threw my keys under the car, and climbed up on the hood for a quick rest. It started snowing - and it seemed as if it took way to long for the rest of the lot to clear out. Finally, as I battled sleep and the cold - I saw the saving lights of a police car. After a couple of passes, the cops stopped and shined a big light in my face.
"Having a problem?" the officer asked.
I sat up.
"Son, you're a drunken mess," the officer tried.
"Yeah, and I can't get my car home."
He asked me where my keys were and I told him I threw them under the car because I was in no condition to find them and I didn't want to be tempted to drive home.
The officer actually laughed and thanked me!
"Come on, we'll give you a ride."
It was the one and only time I've ever ridden in a police car.
"You know, you showed good judgement," the officer said.
"How about the judgement of drinking 83 beers?" I asked.
By the time Kathy picked me up at the station the cops and I were having a good old time reliving the game and my idiotic actions. It took Kathy and a friend quite sometime to locate my car and bring it safely home.
Looking back, the good feelings, the celebration, the shots and the beer could have led to something way worse. Do yourself a favor, go to the game and have fun, but win or lose remember that you need to go back to your life the next day.
Just try and make sure that your life is still intact. I just barely did it right, drunken mess and all.
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