Go blue!

Today, Jude and I finally participated in one of the most sacred traditions of this fine university, the rite of passage all U-M students are fabled to have experienced at least once during their sojourn here; apparently no U-M education is complete without attending this ritual of sorts, where strangers become brothers (or sisters...), where kinship is no longer defined by blood, and where the humble dollar-hotdog can only be gotten at the royal price of $6!... Yup, we went to a U-M football game today.

It wasn't intentional really. My wonderful advisor had a couple of extra tickets and offered them to me on Thursday; since Jude and I have never been to a football game and this was going to be U-M's last home game, we were more then happy to take the tickets. The thing is, I had no idea what this game involves, so I do what all good graduate students do when they encounter something they don't know (or so the professors here believe)- research. I did a Google and ta-dah! a website professes to be able to tell me all I need to know about this quintessentially American sport. Sadly, it lost me even before starting on the rules- I couldn't even understand how the field is set-up...

But still, it was a good experience all round I guess- spent half the time clicking away and the other half pretending to understand the game by cheering when everyone else cheered, and gesticulating wildly even though I didn't have a clue what or why I was gesticulating wildly. You get a hang of what's going on after a while- it doesn't take a nuclear physicist to realize that the point of basically ANY ball game is to get the ball from one end of the field to the other. What Jude and I found annoying is that American football is so choppy. I mean, why have these time-outs when all they do is convene and figure out how to run the next few yards? (Which is another one of my pet peeves about America- like hello?? The rest of the world speaks in metric- what's with the yards, feet, stone, pint? And they're not even proportionately related to each other...)

Anyway, like I was saying, it's difficult to engage in a game that keeps stopping every few minutes. What was more fun about being at the stadium was the atmosphere of being with 111,346 other people in one compound. It was quite exhilarating actually, and you pretty much get caught up in the spirit of everything- it is very infectious. And so I find out that the whole marching band-cheerleading-mascot deal really exists (and not just a figment of my John Hughes-inspired notion of what an American education experience is all about), that food costs more before than after a game, that 45-year olds can shout (and curse) as well as any 18-year old, and that I do not own a piece of clothing that is vaguely maize or blue to represent the college colors. Oh yes, I also discovered that looking for friends amidst 111,346 people is like playing a very cruel version of "Where's Wally?", except without the striped sweater...

So yes, the deed is done and I don't have to worry about fulfilling any obligation to watch a football game again for the next 4 years. We're probably not going back to another game; it's not that we don't like it, but to have from a country that practically revers soccer, and for someone like Jude who used to play rugby, football kinda seems awfully... slow. Besides, $6 for a hotdog is just plain wrong...