It was the 13th of January, 1973, a Saturday. I was 17 and spent the afternoon at the movies with my sister. We were both oblivious to what was happening outside the theatre. Unusual for a midwinter day in Saskatchewan, it was raining. What we didn't realize was that we wouldn't make it home that night.
We drove off from the city in the early darkness to our farm home some forty miles away. Our parents awaited our arrival in the family car at the house nestled in the hills. The only problem was that the freezing rain would not allow us to climb the hills on the highway. We were not alone in our plight.
After seeing a long line of cars ahead of us, marooned at the base of a huge hill, we were fortunate to meet a friend who was driving the opposite direction, back to the city. We were both afraid to drive anymore, having slid into the ditch once already, so were parked our car on an approach to a field and hooked a ride with my friend to our grandmother's house in the city for the night.
The next morning, the sun came out bright and hot and we knew that it would be safe to get back to our car and drive home. When my grandma asked me if I wanted to go to church in the city, I instantly declined, stating that I really needed to get home. The reason that I needed to get home was that I had my own personal schedule to watch the Super Bowl that day.
Once I arrived home, I sequestered myself in the small, dark study room with a little black and white television and watched the Miami Dolphins complete their perfect season with a 14-7 victory over the Washington Redskins. The game itself wasn't all that exciting, as Miami's defense dominated the Redskins all afternoon. The offense managed to score a pair of touchdowns on two long drives and led 14-0 until a miracle play near the end gave Washington a touchdown when Miami's kicker, Garo Yepremian, a Cypriot (famous for saying "I keek a touchdown") picked up his blocked field goal attempt and tried to throw a pass that went the wrong way.
But, I was pleased. I had seen the big game and the experience is still etched in my memory, decades later. Today, the Super Bowl is a much bigger deal, watched by millions and millions of people. I even considered attending the game in person this year, as my favourite team, the New Orleans Saints, actually made it to the big game for the first time in their history. I couldn't have gone in 1973, but I could have made the arrangements to attend this year. How times have changed. However, some things never change.
Although I am a retired father of three, and married to my sweetheart English graduate student, I will feel like that 17 year old boy again this Sunday as I cheer on my Saints in Super Bowl XLIV. I don't need to see it in person; I don't need to go to a bar with multiple big screens. I can still watch the game in my little house on my narrow little television, and still thoroughly enjoy the experience. I loved football way back then, and my love of the game has grown immensely from those days. If the Saints win, I will be like a happy little boy, and if the Indianapolis Colts win, I will still be happy, as they are my third favourite NFL team. Football is a great diversion that continues to thrill me. I am really glad that some things never change.
