It was a typical game night, lines of cars moving slowly in every direction trying to get parked before it started, being directed by policemen standing out in the frigid temperatures.  Just as we passed one such policeman, he yelled at the top of his lungs, “doesn’t anybody carpool anymore!?!”  After a short pause, my friend and I laughed out loud, hearing the frustration in his voice, asking a question that most might be thinking in their heads or sharing with a colleague, but never yelling out loud.

Being in a large group of loud people makes it easier to yell or say funny things.  I remember going to a Renaissance fair many years ago with the kids and as we were watching a joisting match, someone yelled a line from Monty Python and the Holy Grail and everyone began yelling the lines that followed.  Perfect strangers laughing at and with each other. You certainly wouldn’t do that at the grocery store or a restaurant.  Unless you’re in Nebraska the night before game day and you just randomly yell “Go Big Red” before you cut into your steak.  If only I were kidding.

But back to this game.  Other spectators at the game are always entertaining.  There’s always the one guy who thinks he knows everything and keeps yelling “just shoot the ball!”, like it’s really just that easy.  And then there were the two lovely ladies behind us, whom I’m convinced were buzzing just a little bit perhaps because EVERYTHING was funny.  “Shoot the ball!!” followed by raucous laughter.  “Hey, the game’s not over yet!” with yet more laughter.  They kept saying things like “those poor boys” or “I can’t believe how many empty seats there are” like concerned mamas.  Cheering loudly for their team but realizing it was a game and not a matter of life or death.  And then more laughter.

I’m not a yeller at a sporting event, except for the occasional involuntary “get him” that may spring from my mouth during a football game, otherwise it’s just sounds and very short words.  “Oh, oh, oh no…” or “go, go, go, go, go!” (always in groups of five for some reason) or “rebound!”.  I’m more of an observer, reacting with some clapping or once in a while standing up for a good play.  I understand the game pretty well but am in no way a commentator except maybe when they make a great basket and I say “nice!”.  I told you, sounds and short words.  No, I’m a multi-tasker, able to watch and absorb what is happening in the game AND talk shop with my sports buddy who kindly accepts my invitations to attend games so I don’t have to go alone.  It’s not like I don’t have other people to ask but I know what to expect at a game with this buddy and it’s comfortable.  Comfortable is a good thing.

After all, this buddy likes burgers and fries like I like burgers and fries and he doesn’t say anything (although he may be thinking it) when I get crumbs all over me from whatever I’m eating.  Oh, and ice cream and M&M’s.  And popcorn. We’re probably not good for each other when it comes to food but again, it’s comfortable and I don’t feel judged.  After all, isn’t going to a game all about eating junk food and getting it all over you because there’s not enough lap in the world to hold all the stuff you want to eat?

Maybe I should consider yelling more at games.  It might be therapeutic.  Good teachers like me don’t yell as misbehaving students during the school day,  so maybe attending a game after school just to yell could be a good thing.  Maybe there could be games where only teachers attended and they could yell to their hearts content.  Or maybe for frostbitten policemen who are frustrated by the lack of carpoolers.