Last night the old high school team was beat miserably. I am still getting use to the school going to a six-man football team, but enrollment is down to a little over 300 kids in grades K-12, with the dissolving of rural America. It beats no football at all.
Six-man football is basically a track meet and most of the time the team with the most players on the bench wins. Our team fielded 10 players while theirs fielded 12 players so by numbers we were close but the game was not. One team down the road aways were on the brink of not fielding even a six player team with only 5 boys going out for football but a pair of sisters joined up for a total of 7 players. My hat is off to these sisters, who probably put up with a good deal of guff from opposing teams. It seems to me that they exemplify the true meaning of team spirit.
The dance afterwards was not that crowded but a fair turnout arrived and I scooted a boot with Angry Joyce and even managed to dance with and embarrass the 14 year old. So my parental duties in this regard are caught up for a while.
My hangover was not bad at all. I used the old cure of eating breakfast burritos with a good dose of jalapenos before going to bed. In the morning, the fiery runs flushed all the poisons from my body and left me freshy fresh and ready for today.
Today the parade was better than usual although it certainly was no Tournament of Roses. The addition of the Nifty Fifties Car Club added quite a bit to the proceedings and it seemed that more classes joined in. I don't know if they won a prize but my hat is off to the class that had members walking down the route with a sign in front that read, "No Money for Gas" and a sign in back that read, "Save Gas: Reduce Your Ass."
Enough of my ramblings, I'm gone to see if I can tempt fate and see if the cure will work two days in a row.