The Day That Went Wrong

          The Day That Went Wrong

Suzanne Marsh

If I have not learned anything else in my seventy-four years. I have learned not to try and outthink my dad, it is impossible. Although Dad passed away in 2000 I have never forgotten the day that went wrong from the start. My husband had purchased tickets for a Buffalo Bills game, however, Dad I knew would consider it an expense we could not afford, since we were living with him at the time. I had never been to a football game let alone an NFL game, it was the Buffalo Bills vs the Miami Dolphins.

We left early in the morning, the drive is normally a half hour, except on game day. We were within ten miles of our destination, Orchard Park Stadium when traffic stopped; this was not good. I kept glancing at my watch, game time was noon, almost ten thirty in the morning. I was not a happy camper, we were still sitting in the traffic when another gate opened up, and we began to move, that was a good thing. We parked then got out and began our trek toward the stadium. It was almost noon, we had to get past the ticket taker and find our seats. We found them up high on the other side of the stadium. After climbing for several minutes we reached our seats, we were seated om the middle of nosebleed heaven. Hey, at least made it before the kick-off, at first I wasn’t sure we would make it, but we did.

The first goal was so far away I missed it, which was just as well it was the first score of the game, it belonged to the Miami Dolphins. The punt went into Bill's territory, thrilling until the ball was fumbled. I am not a fan of football, I can think of many different ways to enjoy a Sunday afternoon, but this was at the bottom of my list. My husband loved football so there I sat, I had no clue what was going on. However, by half time my vocabulary was beginning to consist of GO BILLS and SQUIAH THE FISH. Half-time meant time to eat, at least that was what my stomach had in mind. My husband went to get food, while I sat in the hot sun, contemplating the second half of this game. I began to think of football like a game of chess, my anthology was a bit off but close.

My husband returned with hamburgers, chips, and a huge glass of Pepsi. We began to eat as the whistle blew signifying the beginning of the next quarter. The Bills were down by seven points, really seven points, to me did not seem that horrible, however, my husband was a tad bit upset. He was just finishing the hamburger when Jim Kelly was tackled. At this point, I was trying to equate what Jim Kelly did in deference to the game of chess. Football still did not make any sense to me; I hoped by the time this game was over I could at least tell if the Bills won or lost.

The sun was getting hot, and I had no idea how I was going to explain to my dad how I got a sunburn since I had told him we were going to see my husband’s sister, in the small town of Albion. That was roughly an hour's drive, the same as going to Orchard Park Stadium. I just hoped the rest of the game would end before anything else went wrong.

There are times when I wonder what I was thinking as I sat watching this game, yelling at the top of my lungs: “SQUISH THE FISH!!” My brain kept telling me that Dolphins are not fish they are mammals. The guy in front of us heard me and turned around: “Lady, what difference does it make if the dolphin is a fish or mammal.” I squared off: “The difference is that fish is not the correct term for a dolphin.” My husband by this time looked as if he would like to sink under the seat, he could not believe I would have started that sort of ‘thing’. The guy in front was disgusted, he knew I was correct!

My husband looked at me and said patiently: “WILL YOU JUST YELL GO BILLS AND LEAVE THE DAMN FISH OUT OF IT.” I was not exactly pleased but did my best. I began to yell go Bill as the Dolphins ran another touchdown, that I decided was a home run. Now the guy in front of me gave me one of those: “Yeah right lady looks” and my husband tried to hide. What else could I say, I did not have a clue as to how football was played and no desire to learn. We sat there, my husband giving me a warning look not to open my mouth again during the game. At this point, the Bills were down by fourteen points. This made no difference to me, I was not enjoying this game at all. My husband was yelling and clapping, and I was sitting thinking about dinner on the way home.

Finally the fourth quarter, the Bills were losing, and my husband was disappointed. I just wanted to go home, I had enough football to last me a lifetime. The Bills ended the game with a field goal, that was the most exciting thing to happen all day long. It was finally over, time to leave, we began the almost one-mile trek back to the car. It was now after five o’clock, and once again traffic was horrible, it seemed as if everyone wanted to leave at the same time. Horns were blaring and tempers were getting short. We sat patiently waiting for our turn only to be cut off by some turkey in a red Corvette, I threw my arms up in disgust, as my husband tried to hide behind the wheel.

We arrived home at roughly seven in the evening, tired and cranky; Dad noted my sunburn and asked if I wanted something cold to drink. I told him the only thing I wanted was a cool shower and go to bed, my husband said the very same thing. We went to bed around nine o’clock, and sleep came quickly.

The next morning it was back to work as usual, something I will never take for granted again. Later that evening was the culmination of the wrong day. My dad was busy cooking dinner, my husband was in the sports section, then onto the back page of the news. His face suddenly drained of color, I looked a him, as he handed me the newspaper. There in black and white was a picture of the two of us in the stands. I gave him a horrified look, and he gave one of I’ll take care of it:

“Hey Bill, there is a picture of the game from yesterday I am going to cut it out is that okay?” Dad replied: “Yeah go ahead, I never really look at the back page.” A sigh of relief swept through both of us. I would never wish to replicate that Sudnay when everything went wrong, I know there was a lesson in this: “Never fib to dear ole d