By Audrey W.
Roy DeSoto held the hand of his six-year-old son Christopher as they made their way inside the football stadium. It was Chris’s first time to a live game. His favorite team the Los Angeles Rams were playing the San Diego Chargers. As a result of the two teams being geographically close together, there were just as many Charger fans at the game as there were Ram ones.
“Can I get a finger?” he asked his dad.
Chris had seen plenty of games on TV and noticed some fans had a large foam hand that had the team logo and name, as well as an index finger up to mean ‘number one’.
“Sure, as soon as I find where they’re selling them.”
Chris kept scanning all around them as they continued on, hopes he would spot the fingers if his dad didn’t.
“There they are, Dad!” he said as he jumped up and down, his own index finger pointing off to the right. “There they are!”
Roy took him over to the vendor and paid for the foam Los Angeles Rams hand. He and Chris then headed for a snack counter to each get a hot dog and soda before going to their seats.
The game started off well, with the Rams scoring a touchdown on their first drive that only took five minutes and thirty-three seconds. Chris waved his foam finger proudly while the Charger fans seated nearby grumbled and complained that their defense apparently hadn’t shown up for the game.
But when it was San Diego’s turn with the ball, it was obvious their offense was there and ready. In one long pass with a run tacked on, they’d tied the game.
Chris looked at the now celebratory San Diego fans screaming, whistling and jumping up and down. He couldn’t wait for his Rams to shut them up again.
By half time it was apparent the Rams were not prepared for the Chargers’ offense and the defense had allowed two more touchdowns and a field goal. The Chargers’ defense had snapped out of their slump and kept the Rams to just one field goal since the opening drive score.
“Don’t worry,” Roy told his son. “The coach is probably in the locker room chewing the guys out now. They’ll come back on the field for the second half and be ready to play again.”
“I hope so,” he pouted. He wanted to wave the foam finger more than twice.
Much to Chris’s dismay, the second half of the game wasn’t much better. San Diego dominated and their fans grew more boisterous. Chris was annoyed with the ones nearby. He shot them glares with each yell, whistle or loud comment they made.
He wished he and his dad could get away from all Charger fans. He held his foam hand up to block his face from the others.
Finally the game ended, the score forty-four to seventeen, in favor of the Chargers. The victorious fans screamed and yelled with joy as they celebrated the win.
Chris unhappily walked beside his dad as they made their way past the rowdy crowd.
“You know what they say,” Roy reminded him. “You can't win them all.”
“I jus’ wish I had a different kinda finger to wave at those guys,” Chris stated with a frown.
Roy glanced down in surprise. He had a feeling he knew exactly what ‘finger’ his son was referring to. Although the vision of it brought an inward grin, Roy knew he’d have to talk to Chris about being a ‘sport’ and keeping the middle finger down.
He sure was glad his wife wasn’t there. She wouldn’t be a ‘sport’ concerning Chris’s suggestion.
This was inspired from years ago, when we took our daughter to her first pro football game. It was the Broncos vs the Cardinals. The Broncos creamed us and the fans were very rowdy and vocal. She made the comment Chris did and it cracked us up! I still have to smile when I think about it. :o)
Rams Logo 1972-1979
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