And the Winner Is – Who Cares!

There is a reason why most women do not know a thing about sports. We simply don’t care. In the greater scheme of things, who wins the Super Bowl will not impact the world at large. Hubby finds my way of watchig sports amusing.

Back in the day, we would sometimes see a Kings Basket Ball Game. I brought a book to read, even when those seats were on the court. Why? To me, noting mattered except the last quarter of the game. I did the same thing when we would go to baseball games in San Francisco. The ninth inning, I’d put my book away and pay attention. I know there are those who would argue that the entire game matters. To be honest, in my opinion even the final outcome doesn’t matter.

I bring this up to explain the pictures I’m about to share. Many, many moons ago Hubby and I had the opportunity to attend a Super Bowl Game in San Diego. It was Green Bay (Hubby’s home-team) against Denver. The 1998 winning team – Denver. Hubby was bummed, but I had a great time because I didn’t care.

As you can tell by the pictures, we had some awesome seats right on the 40 yard line, just behind the seats of the players families. Before the game started, while the teams were warming up, I was snapping pictures. I snapped pictures of everything from the moment we entered the stadium.

Anyway, during the warm ups a man came over and introduced himself to us. His name was George Winters. The name meant nothing to me. I guess he could tell by the blank look on my face. So he went on to explain that his son played for the Packers. Again a blank look. Hubby was squirming in his seat.

“You know, there are a lot of pictures of Brett Favre out there.” George continued. “My wife is ill, so she could not make it to the game. It would be great if we could get some shots of our son in the Super Bowl.”

“Sure, I can do that. Who’s your son?” I asked as Hubby tried to distance himself from me.

“Frank. Frank Winters.” George explained as though that would make some kind of a difference.

“Oh,” I responded, still looking confused.

“He’s the center.” George said slowly as though he were speaking to a child.

“Okay. The center of what?” I asked. By now Hubby was beyond embarrassed with his airhead of a wife. He could remain silent no longer.

“I’ll point her in the direction.” Hubby assured George. “She’ll get the shot.” And that I did.

Kiddo now has an enlarged copy of this picture signed by the team thanks to George Winters. It’s a great shot with Frank looking straight into the camera as though he somehow knew this shot was for his mom.