As a brand new football fan, it seemed that NFL season would never end. Week after week of match-ups that gave the Raiders one more chance to eat someone’s brains out has spoiled me rotten! But before I bid a fond farewell to this football season, let’s have a brief recap of the biggest sports day of the year.
Super Bowl Sunday 2011
First, of course, is the National Anthem. Oh Christina Aguilera. I definitely cried as she sang the National Anthem. Was it for her typical vocal gymnastics? No. Was it because she messed up the words? No. Was it because I was dicing onions for guacamole? Yes.
But of course, not everyone was so behind in their game-day preparations that they didn’t have time to immediately rush to their computers and tweet, facebook, blog, and generally throw up around the internet about what an idiot she is. Instead of hate or mockery, I felt extremely empathetic. Let me explain.
I have had the pleasure and honor of singing the National Anthem before sports games all over Helena from Helena High School Men’s Basketball to the Helena Brewers, my favorite minor league baseball team in the universe. No matter how many times I am scheduled to sing this infamous song, it always goes down the same:
- I accept the invitation to sing! I write it excitedly in my planner, probably with some stars by it. I am fancy like that.
- Suddenly it is the day before the big event, and I decide to practice. I spend about fifteen minutes trying to remember on which note I usually start. It is F. Seriously, Josie, it’s F every time.
- I sing it through several times, working little moments, and everything seems fine.
- I decide to review the words that I have been correctly singing for an hour.
- Chaos. It is here, at step five that I enter TOTAL PANIC MODE. I am suddenly unable to confirm with myself that I have been singing the right words my whole life. I start doubting myself on prepositions. Gave proof through the night? No, I think it is TO the night. Yes. To the night. No, that doesn’t make any sense. Through the night. But now that just seems really incorrect.
- I get in the car with my parents and we drive over to Kindrick Legion Field. On the way, I am frantically reviewing verses. I haven’t messed up the words at all today, so I’m sure it’s going to be fine…..right?
- 15 minutes to the game, and I am a wreck. I stand in the holding pen reviewing lyrics over and over again, which makes them harder and harder to remember. My cheeks are flushed with the upcoming embarrassment that is about to ensue. A hot white fear is now suffocating me and I wonder what would happen if I just ran for the gate and moved to Canada, where I could start over…..a new national anthem. Alas, it is too late……
- It’s game time and they walk me out to home plate. Here the baseball players do their part by whistling and making other comments, in the patriotic spirit of course.
- Panic ensues. I turn on the microphone, they mispronounce my name on the loudspeaker, and I take a breath….
- It is over. I have no idea if I have just butchered the most important and famous song in America. Except for “Single Ladies” of course.
- My mom explains to me that it is “gave proof through the night,” not “gave proof to the night,” because why would the night need proof?
- I sit down with a beer and some popcorn and watch some baseball.
So basically, Christina, I feel for you. It could happen to anyone. And the Packers won, so obviously you didn’t screw up the entire game.
Onto other sports: Next week is the Daytona 500. Is NASCAR a sport? Vote in the poll.
