Are You Ready For Some Football?

Break out the facepaint (or warpaint, whatever you want to call it), jersey's and fire up that grill. Football season is back!

Now, football's never been really big at my school. We've got a small team in a small division. We're not one of those teams you're going to see on ESPN or Fox (unless we make the playoffs like we did last year). My cousins and friends are jealous because instead of praying that I win a lottery to get a ticket, I just have to show my student ID and walk through the gate. In fact, I think most people are a little surprised that we even have a football team.

I support my football team, and I always will. However, my loyalty also lies with a couple of other teams. If our football game is an away game, then you'll probably find me sitting in front of the TV, yelling at my beloved Hokies (or Chokies, as they're affectionately known in my household). On Sunday's, you might find me watching some NFL. I tend to avoid watching them, though. There's just something about watching the NFL that I don't like. I can't really put my finger on it. Let's just say that I live for college football, and that sentiment is shared by my father.

It's amusing, actually. Dad usually has three football buddies (four, when I'm home). On any given Saturday, you can probably find him lying on the couch with Cleo (my cat) sitting above his head, and Kodi and Callie (our dogs) lying at his feet as they settle in to watch his alma mater play. By the second quarter, all four of them will probably have fallen asleep. It's Ok, though. They'll wake up in the middle of the third and watch until the end.

If there's a major game that's going to be played later in the evening, then sometimes dad cooks chili. He and I (and sometimes my brother) will go out and get all the neccessary ingredients earlier in the day, and when we return home, we begin the process of "building" the chili. Dad has a sworn by recipe that's never been written down and depends on constantly changing proportions of spices, meat and tomato products. Each pot of chili is a little different, so we've got to be flexible. While one batch might need more cayenne pepper, another might need more salt. Or maybe we need more tomato paste in one while another needs more water. Either way, we're constantly testing the chili as it cooks, making adjustments as need. By about 02:00 PM, we've usually got a rather large pot of chili simmering on the stove. About fifteen minutes before kickoff, we'll all gather around and dip out our bowls of the thick stew. This is where things get interesting.

Each member of my family has their own unique way of fixing their chili. Personally, I prefer to put a fair amount of shredded sharp cheese in mine, with a small dollop of sour cream. Dad tends to steer away from any cheese or sour cream, instead pulling out the Fritos Scoops that serve as his preferred method of consumption. My brother will also use the Fritos, but he usually throws some cheese in his chili as well. Mom's never been a huge fan of chili, but she'll eat it when Dad takes the time to cook it. She usually throws sour cream in hers, but no cheese.

One pot of chili usually produces enough thick, red stew for all four of us to go back for seconds (and sometimes thirds). In fact, usually we've got enough left over for us all to have at least a couple of bowls later in the week.

Chili is my family's big football tradition. It brings us all together in one way or another, even if during the beginning of the day, we'd been all doing our own things. In my humble opinion, I don't think there's anything better than coming into the house after running errands while home from college and smelling that distinct chili smell. At the end of the football season, I may not remember the final scores of all the huge games, or who even played the Super Bowl. I can bet you money, though, that I can remember those days where Dad and I stood around the stove, discussing what exactly was missing from the pot.

Once again, though, I am faced with the reality that my chili days are numbered. I'm away at college, and to be honest, chili doesn't exactly ship well through the USPS. So, I cherish those moments I have with my dad, cooking that chili. I cherish those nights spent sitting around the TV, yelling at the players and coaches as spoons (and Fritos) scrape the bottoms of bowls. I cherish that time I get to spend with my family, because I know that those moments are slowly beginning to dwindle in number.

So, whether your family's football tradition is wearing jerseys and face/warpaint or watching the game with friends in your team-themed room, remember this- these are the important moments. These are the moments that you'll remember for a lifetime. These are the moments.

With that said, I've got one last question for ya...

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL?!?!?!?!