Some things will always be tied inexplicably to events, places
or people from our past.
Some things will always be tied inexplicably to events, places or people from our past.
For example, I will never be able to pass a Jessica McLintock store without fondly remembering the sound of swishing taffeta while dancing at my senior prom.
Or listen to Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” without remembering counting the box step while learning how to ballroom dance with my husband, Chris, weeks before our wedding.
And now Super Bowl Sunday is among those events that have taken on a new meaning, at least to my husband.
From now until eternity, Chris won’t help but view the pinnacle of the football season through the eyes of fans in an Amsterdam sports bar.
You see, my dear husband was stranded in Europe last weekend in between business meetings. To kill time, he slept late, went sight-seeing and sat on a bar stool in Amsterdam on Super Bowl Sunday to watch the big game.
What’s unique about watching the Super Bowl in Amsterdam, Chris explained to me in the midst of 100 screaming fans, is that no one cares who wins or who loses.
They’re just rooting for a close game.
Chris called me during the last few minutes of the game to relay to me the sights and sounds around him.
“You wouldn’t believe this, Kelly,” he screamed. “I’m surrounded by all of these screaming Amsterdam people who are watching the Super Bowl. No one cares who’s winning.”
“What?” I yelled back.
“They just cheer after something big happens,” he said.
How refreshing, I thought. To watch a game, especially the Super Bowl, just for the fun of it. To cheer on both teams gleefully, without a vested interest, applauding for a superb play regardless of who makes it.
I think that’s how I watch most football games, especially the Super Bowl. To see who will win and hope for some exciting plays along the way. I also like the traditional fare that goes along with the game – and the commercials. Though I have to admit, this year they did not impress. Too much testosterone, if you ask me.
It’s funny to think that football is not just an American pastime. Chris said that everyone around him – Canadians, Europeans, you name it – say they follow the all-American sport.
But to be on the safe side, moments before the Super Bowl started, European sports commentators explained to TV viewers the significance of Super Bowl Sunday. They said it was considered an American holiday.
Well, I guess that’s true. Banks are closed. People buy a lot of food and drink and gather and carouse. They also said that 6 percent of the American workforce calls in sick the Monday after the big game. I guess some people need a day of rest after their holiday.
As our phone conversation winded down, I could almost see the people craning their necks as the fourth quarter was played out. It was reported to be the highest-scoring quarter of Super Bowl history.
As the moments ticked by, I could hear more yelling and could imagine the patrons leaping out of their stools, disturbing their beers in their wake as New England made a last-seconds field goal. The game ended – New England 32, North Carolina 29.
“Wow, what a game!” he yelled, echoing the people around him.
Yes, it was.
I told Chris good night and told him to be careful walking back to his hotel. But I’m not sure if he heard me. I could tell his eyes were still glued to the screen and the screaming Amsterdam fans around him, cheering for a closer than close Super Bowl finish.
