Why it Matters...Part Three

On this blog we've been talking for the past couple days...

*Well, I've been talking, you've been reading*

...about why football matters. 

The first reason I gave was because it creates warm memories. 

The second reason I gave was because it creates connections between people. 

Tonight, let me give one final reason why it matters. 

Even though, yes I know, it really doesn't. 

But...

The year was 1992. 

Auburn wasn't having a very good year. 

I hadn't learned how to deal with the Alabama fans at school yet and if you'll remember Alabama was having a particularly good year in '92.

The Georgia game that year was particularly gut wrenching. 

We had a chance to pull ahead at the very end of the game and due to some sort of clock management or inadvertent whistle or some such we lost.

*Think UT versus LSU last year*

Anyway...

I started crying. 

Like, um, really crying. 

Over football. 

My Dad looked at me and got really mad. 

I can count on one hand the times my Dad has yelled at me.

Wait!!! Rabbit Trail!

Lets count the times he's yelled at me shall we?

#1 I tickled him on his feet when I was five.

Do not, I repeat, DO NOT tickle my Dad.

He yelled. 

I think I even got a swat!

#2 When I was seven I was visiting my Grandmom who lived just down the street...

Well, it was actually through my back yard, past a patch of trees, through the junk yard and down a  garden row but it was essentially 'just down the street.'

So my parents called up to the house and told me to come home. I didn't want to and got sassy.

So, I took a LONG time to come home. Mutinously inching towards the house as long minutes passed by. I'm not sure how long it took but it felt like hours.

When I got home he was waiting on the back porch.

He yelled and I definitely got a swat!

#3 I was really mean to my Mom once in the 8th grade. I can't remember what it was about but I remember he yelled at me. 

Which...when I say 'yell' it was more like a 'stern raising of his voice' more than a yell but just go with it. 

And that brings us to the end of the rabbit trail and to the last time my Dad yelled at me.

So, we're in the upper deck at Jordan Hare and I'm crying because we've lost the game and he comes over to me and says:

"You better quit that crying or I'm never taking you to a game again! There are a lot of things that are way more important than this!"

In 2009, we came so close to beating Alabama. 

As the seconds ticked off though I looked at my nephews who I was watching the game with and I looked at my brothers and sisters-in-law and I thought about my family that was safe and secure back at the RV and I thought: 

It really isn't a big deal. 

The loss. 

I mean, sure I wish we would have won but we've so much to be thankful for.

And the thing is...

Football teaches us that even though it matters...

Other things matter more.