My father was never interested in sports, nor was my only brother. So I grew up not knowing almost nothing about sports. I only learned a little bit about playing baseball when I was in grade school. We didn't have enough kids for two proper teams, so we played work-up. When I got to high school, I played in the pep band and that meant I attended football and basketball games. Gradually, I began to catch on to how those games worked. Football baffled me more than basketball, with all that fuss over ten yards and how many "downs", and which direction our team had to run in order to make a goal. And then, if somebody actually ran across the magic line while holding the ball, somebody else got a chance to kick it over the goalposts and make extra points. I still don't quite understand that, but it's not something I lose sleep over.
More interesting than the antics down on the often-muddly field was the chance to admire handsome young men. The ones down on the field were quite well-disguised in their helmets and shoulder pads, but there were always good-looking distractions among the band members, and elsewhere in the grandstand. Maybe that's why I never really paid enough attention to understand the game.
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