Tailgate at last!

The football game did not go the way I wanted, but it was exciting to watch and fun to be with a big group.

Everything was set up by the time Blaine and I arrived. John's pickup was backed into their reserved space. A large television sat on a platform in the pickup bed up by the cabin. The generator that powered it and a table of slow cookers grumbled in the background. Another long table was holding the food that everyone contributed. Beneath it was row of coolers containing all types of drinks. A small canopy was set up in case there was rain (or sun, I suppose, but we haven’t seen the sun for a couple of weeks).

Blaine contributed a large cooler of mixed beverages (beer, Coke and Diet Coke), and I brought an experiment -- rum balls made with cinnamon flavored whisky instead of rum. This group is nuts for cinnamon whisky, so I thought it would be a novel addition. The balls disappeared quickly because everyone was curious. They were not as tasty as I’d hoped. The cinnamon flavor didn’t come through very strongly. Still, several people requested them again.

The couple who had planned to have a watching party at their house canceled their plans last night and came to the tailgate instead. They were very nice both times I’ve been around them, so I made sure to say hello and reintroduce myself. If there were hard feelings about the party cancellation, I couldn’t tell.

One person in the group that Blaine has brunch with on Sundays always refers to me as “Eve’s dog sitter” when she introduces me. Occasionally she’ll include “and coworker.” This is why I ended up having a long conversation with someone who has a border collie that hates being boarded. She asked if I was taking on new clients. I explained I wasn’t a professional pet sitter. She said that didn’t bother her since we knew people in common. I said I only took care of Izzy because Eve is a friend. She didn’t have a lot of use for me then.

I sought out Blaine after that. We hit the food table. John called out to me to ask how I liked my hot dogs. “Burned beyond recognition,” I called back. No one ever believes me. At John’s insistence that I let him know if it wasn’t right, I rejected the offered hot dog twice before it was properly charred.

Dani (Kim and John’s daughter) and a couple of friends had games going. I successfully avoided those. There was plenty of music coming from the other tailgates and conversations had to take place in fairly tight groups. I hung out with Eve for the most part because the couples seem to separate. It’s the only thing that bugs me. Blaine did come by a couple of times, once to bring me a fresh drink and another time to ask if how I was doing and if I was having fun.

It wasn’t until the pregame broadcast started that John turned on the television and the huge speakers attached to it. Within minutes all the tailgates were tuned to the same broadcast. It reminded me of being a kid and riding my bike around our small town on game day. On every block someone was out working in their garage with their radio tuned to the game and the volume turned up. No matter where you were, you knew the score.

Blaine grabbed the lawn chairs we had brought and set them up for us next to Eve and Paul. There wasn’t much sitting until the opposing team had scored two touchdowns after recovering fumbled balls. It was a close game but we didn't play well.

In the quieter periods, I took some ribbing for having the wrong color lawn chair. Mine was the only one not in the team color. When pressed about why I had bought a blue chair, I said my heart belonged to the Cubs. (In reality it’s the only color there was when I bought it years ago.) Paul called out, “We’ll get her a proper one before next weekend.” At least no one cared that the team t-shirt I wore was about five minutes old.

I was wired afterward and the night air was perfect for a long walk through Blaine’s neighborhood. “This was a fun day,” I told him. “I’m glad we made it to football season,” I joked.

“Once the season starts you have to see it through you know.”

I don’t think it will be a problem.