One of those stories you tell over and over again
Does anyone have a story that their friends tease them about telling again and again? Yes, I know I act like an old lady, and my reputation is only solidified by the fact that I tell stories repeatedly, forgetting I've told them once.
By the way, if you think you are cool and never repeat your own stories, it is only because your friends are too polite to tell you so. Mine don't hesitate.
So, tonight, E is WAY involved in the Steelers/Colts game (he wants Colts vs. Bears in the Superbowl). And the hash marks are discussed on-screen, so I have to pipe up, just to annoy him. This is my MOST OVERTOLD story of all time.
I played in marching band in HS and one year of college. My HS band kind of sucked at marching (good at music), so I was totally into marching and everything in college. I wanted to go to a Division I school to play in the band and study engineering.
Marching band is something that only other band geeks can understand. Madeleine knows this, and we've bonded over going to rookie parties at the same band house on Livingston Ave in Syracuse. Anyway. You practice these big, huge complicated routines, and marching right is WAY more important than playing (wisdom I imparted on my sister). And no one really cares, except for your parents, who come to games and take a million pictures. The TV shows cut-away to some lame half-time commentary and commercial hour instead of showing the band.
So, the SU band gets to travel for at least one or two games as a "treat." Well, in 1998, we didn't travel to any Big East games. We got to play halftime at a Buffalo Bills game. Drunk professional football fans are surprisingly receptive to marching bands (although E maintains that the best halftime show he ever saw was dogs catching frisbees, and nothing will ever compare).
In the rain on the day before the game, we practiced in the Bills stadium. Members of the band marched on the field from either side to form our huge Batman waving bat-wings formation. And the two sides of the field collided into eachother. It turns out that the hash marks in professional football are significantly closer to field-center the hash marks in college football. So people who measured their "number of steps past the hash marks" (a logical marching measure by any standard) overstepped their position and ran into the people from the other side.
So, this is my main football "fact," to be thrown out any time hash marks are even remotely involved in the conversation. This is much like "Donovan McNabb went to my school" whenever the Eagles are mentioned. I have dozens of other random repeated conversation facts (and I'm sure my husband could go into great detail about them).
A quick search has revealed that, according to MSN Encarta, "The hash marks are 53 ft 4 in (16.3 m) from each sideline in high school football, 60 ft (18.3 m) in college football, and 70 ft 9 in (21.6 m) in the NFL." No explanation of why, though.
I'll give a cookie to anyone who can explain this hash mark discrepancy.
By the way, if you think you are cool and never repeat your own stories, it is only because your friends are too polite to tell you so. Mine don't hesitate.
So, tonight, E is WAY involved in the Steelers/Colts game (he wants Colts vs. Bears in the Superbowl). And the hash marks are discussed on-screen, so I have to pipe up, just to annoy him. This is my MOST OVERTOLD story of all time.
I played in marching band in HS and one year of college. My HS band kind of sucked at marching (good at music), so I was totally into marching and everything in college. I wanted to go to a Division I school to play in the band and study engineering.
Marching band is something that only other band geeks can understand. Madeleine knows this, and we've bonded over going to rookie parties at the same band house on Livingston Ave in Syracuse. Anyway. You practice these big, huge complicated routines, and marching right is WAY more important than playing (wisdom I imparted on my sister). And no one really cares, except for your parents, who come to games and take a million pictures. The TV shows cut-away to some lame half-time commentary and commercial hour instead of showing the band.
So, the SU band gets to travel for at least one or two games as a "treat." Well, in 1998, we didn't travel to any Big East games. We got to play halftime at a Buffalo Bills game. Drunk professional football fans are surprisingly receptive to marching bands (although E maintains that the best halftime show he ever saw was dogs catching frisbees, and nothing will ever compare).
In the rain on the day before the game, we practiced in the Bills stadium. Members of the band marched on the field from either side to form our huge Batman waving bat-wings formation. And the two sides of the field collided into eachother. It turns out that the hash marks in professional football are significantly closer to field-center the hash marks in college football. So people who measured their "number of steps past the hash marks" (a logical marching measure by any standard) overstepped their position and ran into the people from the other side.
So, this is my main football "fact," to be thrown out any time hash marks are even remotely involved in the conversation. This is much like "Donovan McNabb went to my school" whenever the Eagles are mentioned. I have dozens of other random repeated conversation facts (and I'm sure my husband could go into great detail about them).
A quick search has revealed that, according to MSN Encarta, "The hash marks are 53 ft 4 in (16.3 m) from each sideline in high school football, 60 ft (18.3 m) in college football, and 70 ft 9 in (21.6 m) in the NFL." No explanation of why, though.
I'll give a cookie to anyone who can explain this hash mark discrepancy.