In honor of my parents first trip to the Super Bowl and MY Indianapolis Colts second trip to the Super Bowl, I am posting a creative writing paper I wrote in college. My memories of my first Colt’s game in what was the Hoosier Dome. Game was most likely in 1986, the first year we had season tickets. Probably played the Cincinnati Bengals, which I couldn’t pronounce so I refered to them as the tigers. If it wasn’t for those early games I wouldn’t be the football fan I am today. Dad’s start your girls early and you can create a lifelong football fan and someone to watch the games with.
I know my parents will have a great time in Flordia this weekend and I hope the Colts can bring home that second Super Bowl win. Win or lose I will be in the stands for at least one game next year to cheer on MY Indianapolis Colts!
GO COLTS!!!!
We walked into the dome and the breeze, that is always present in a dome, blew my hair to the side. As we walked on I tried in vain to capture all of the people. Vendors hollered at my dad, trying to get us to buy programs and anything else they had to sell that particular day. The fans were of the most interest. Where had they all come from? They all seemed to tower over my preadolescent body. My dad stopped to buy a program, then handed the glossy magazine to me as we headed for the stairwell.
As we a made it to the top of the first flight of stairs, I could see the playing field. What excitement! Never had I seen such a large place filled with so many people. The football field was a rich green color with the blue and white Colt’s logo placed right in the center. The lights and the white dome made everything more vibrant and alive than the outdoors had seemed that day.
We headed to our seats and sat down. Many questions running through my mind: Where will the Colt’s come from?, Where are the television cameras?, How many people are here?, What do all of the words on the score board mean?
This was an exciting day for me. I had never seen something so large before. Heck the only time I had watched football I was sitting in front of a television. I began to realize how the television took away the vibrance and the size of the experience.
The team rushed onto the field and the announcer, in his loud booming voice, began to introduce everyone. When the really popular players came out, fans stood and cheered. Then the teams went to their sides and the referee and the captains came to the field for the coin toss. The players looked so small like the way cars look from an airplane. Their uniforms looked like the most brilliant colors in the crayola box. When the coin toss was done the game began.
Being so small it was tough for me to see that ball at the other end of the field, so I struggled to see throughout the game. When everyone would jump up and scream, confusion would overwhelm me. Not wanting to be noticed or laughed at, I would stand and cheer along. Every time my dad clapped, I was right there with him. After the rambunctious cheering died down, I would poke my dad’s arm and ask what happened. The answer was usually more information than I could understand. The entire game I spent my time poking my dad and asking questions like a wondering toddler: “Why did they do that dad?” By the end of the game the idea of a first down was finally becoming clear, but it still seemed as if there was no order to the game of large men chasing one ball.
After the game was over, we became part of the flow of fans that looked like a school of salmon trying to swim upstream. People hollered to one another about the exciting plays, all of which had taken place so quickly that I was not sure how anyone had gotten so much out of a game that didn’t make much sense to me.
