Why it Matters...part two

Why it matters...Part Two

I'll start tonight out the same way I started last night out just to catch everyone up. 

If you didn't read it here is the link. 

I have a friend that's not a football fan.

Hey...

It happens. 

Even in the South. 

Her name is Liz. 

I've blogged about her before.

One year when her husband's choice of college football team was struggling she honestly asked me:

"Why can't we just cheer for whichever team is good?

I mean, in the grand scheme of things why does it matter?"

I was speechless for a moment.

Because it was the first time I had ever heard the question asked...

But then again...

Why does it matter?

Who wins, who loses, who is good...

I mean, the truth is...

It doesn't.

Matter, that is.

But...

Last night we established that it matters because of the memories it creates in us.

Tonight it matters because...

Well, my father is quiet. 

And I've got two older brothers. 

And sometimes it's not easy to think of things to say to them. 

I always found though that I could talk about football with them. 

When my brothers went away to college I missed them something fierce.

I remember staring at the phone and trying to think of some reason I needed to call them. 

Football always gave me a semi legitimate reason to call.

After all, what do I really have in common with them now that we are all grown ups?

Even now I would guesstimate that 90% of my texts with my brothers are football related.

See, it creates connections where otherwise there wouldn't be one. 

I heard this story when I was in college at Auburn from a girl who had worked in Russia on the mission field for a year.

She told us this story about this chance meeting she had in a train station in the middle of nowhere. 

She was deep in the heart of the country and hadn't seen anyone who spoke English as a first language in over 4 weeks.

She was lonesome and homesick. 

She had just gotten onto a train and was waiting for it to pull off when something peculiar happened.  Just as the wheels began to roll on the train she saw an American guy walking through the station with a University of Georgia sweatshirt on. 

She got so excited that she screamed out to him "War Eagle!" and as he faded from view he yelled back a just as surprised "Go Dawgs!"

She never saw him again. Though she spent the next two years that I knew her looking for him.

See?

Connections.

So, tomorrow we'll explore the another and final reason that football matters.