Heather R. Breaux Blog

Heather R. Breaux
October 17, 2007 at 5:08 pm  | Mobile Reader | Pring this storyPrint 

Thousands of die-hard purple and gold fans cheered on the LSU Tigers as they marched into triple overtime against Kentucky last Saturday.

In the end, the Tigers lost and although the head-hanging defeat cuts like a knife, seeing the look on my dad’s face when I practically ruined the game for him was, personally, a little harder to swallow.

I spent the better half of Saturday in a super-crazed bridal boutique getting final alterations done on the dress I am wearing to my sister’s wedding, so I missed the beginning, middle and almost the end of the game - and so did my dad.

He had to work that day, so he recorded the game on his digital video recorder and planned to watch it that night when he got home.

After our stressful afternoon with a seamstress who barely spoke English was wrapped up, my mom, my sister and myself sluggishly made our way to the car and began our drive home.
Somewhere along the ride my grandmother called from Mississippi to tell us that LSU and Kentucky were in double overtime, so we turned on the radio and started to listen to the game.

It was nearly 7 o’clock in the evening and my dad was home from work by now.

All three of us began making comments about how he was probably on the edge of the couch  yelling at the television - you know, like most men do when tuning into ANY sporting event.

My mom even said, “Oh, your dad must be just dying right now!”

So, we finally pull into the driveway at my parent’s house and with my arms draped in red and white plastic shopping bags I walk into the house and excitedly say, “Dad, how about that double overtime?”

I do believe that the Earth stopped moving at that very moment.

He was watching the recorded  version which was still in the second quarter.  He had no real-time idea where the game was headed.

And the best part of it all is the fact that it took me what felt like minutes to realize why his voice was filled with agitation when he firmly said, “Don’t tell me! I’m watching the game!”

I was like, uh, OK, if he’s watching the game then why is he so upset.  Then it hit me, I realized what was going on.
All I wanted to do was slouch down to the floor and crawl to my car.

My dad turned off the recorded version and silently watched the remainder of the live game.

I kept my distance and even took the long way to the bathroom, just to avoid walking through the living room, where he was sitting.

When it was all said and done, the Tigers lost and my dad, who really and truly is a nice guy, and I apologized to one another.

I apologized for leaking the outcome of the game and he said that he was sorry for getting upset.

Last weekend, I learned about  the importance of weddings and the seriousness of football, and how similar the two are.

Think of walking down the aisle as the same thing as running the length of a football field - everyone wants to get to the other side, score the touchdown and wants nothing to be standing in their way.

Send story ideas to heatherb@heraldguide.com.

View other articles written Heather R. Breaux

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