|
Post by Trojan Thunder on Dec 28, 2023 14:59:13 GMT -6
|
|
|
Post by Trojan By Birth on Dec 28, 2023 16:11:29 GMT -6
So, there they were, 2.65 million folks, probably with better things to do, gathered 'round the TV sets or crammed into the sweltering bleachers of the new Legion Field(I don't know or care about the name of the new joint). It was the Birmingham Bowl, a clash of pigskin titans—Troy against Duke. A spectacle that somehow managed to attract more eyes than a cat video on the internet.
Picture it: a football game in the heart of the Deep South, where the air was thicker than molasses and the excitement palpable, like the fizz in a shaken-up soda bottle. Troy, the scrappy underdog, locked horns with Duke, probably more used to sipping tea in fancy parlors than dealing with Southern grit.
In those 2.65 million pairs of eyes, there was a kind of collective curiosity, a shared "What the heck is gonna happen next?" as the players danced across the field. The football sailed through the air like a metaphorical bird, and each catch or fumble felt like a punchline in some cosmic joke.
Cheers erupted and curses were muttered, a cacophony of human emotion echoing through the humid air. It wasn't just a game; it was a communal experience, a fleeting diversion from the mundanity of life. And when the final whistle blew, there was either joy or dismay, but in the end, it was just a bunch of folks who'd spent a few hours together in the strange ritual of watching grown men chase an oddly-shaped ball.
So, in the grand scheme of things, the Birmingham Bowl became a blip in the timeline of those 2.65 million lives. A quirky chapter, a footnote in the annals of absurdity. But hey, for a moment, they all shared something—whether they liked it or not.
|
|
|
Post by buzzlightyear on Dec 29, 2023 13:08:53 GMT -6
Cheers erupted and curses were muttered, a cacophony of human emotion echoing through the humid air. It wasn't just a game; it was a communal experience, a fleeting diversion from the mundanity of life. And when the final whistle blew, there was either joy or dismay, but in the end, it was just a bunch of folks
There were other comments that were very descriptive of near metaphysical experience.
Heck I just thought some folks turned on a football game because that’s what you do this time of year.
|
|