Evendays

The French did fine considering what they had to work with: a 45 minute pre-game show, a European audience that doesn’t know the difference between a block and a tackle (wait… those were NFL refs!), a really ugly half-time band and a game that had lost its punch after the first series. French coverage started with de-covered Miami Dolphins’ Cheerleaders doing a routine while a roaming camera filmed moving body parts. The hosts then gave a history of French players in the NFL (just two: Laurent LaFite (kicker, of course) and Jean-Pierre Derrière (bench warmer)*) and talked about American Football clubs in France (200). The rules were explained with a 4 minute video clip (prepared by the NFL) then were later re-explained after disastrous calls. (Someone forgot to show the clip to the officials.) I see one game a year, maybe, and see football “anew” each time: the size and speed of the players, the impact of the hits, the gladiator spirit of the game, the adulation of the fans… It was 4:05 AM when I turned off the tube, happy to have lived an American moment, even if it was a sleeper. Bring on Super Bowl XLI. *Just kidding.

That’s right, a 6:PM kick-off in Detroit makes it midnight here. A minute later, well, it’s Monday “Night” Football. This is my first year to really watch it from my Lazy-Boy. The first few years it was in b/w and “coded” on the French pay “Canal+”. No lie, I would shake my head back and forth in front of the blurry screen and could often make out the score or see, sometimes, which team had the ball. Later, I met some Chicago fans from Jamaica and got invited to see the match direct, in English, at their place. Great fun. They had a well-stocked fridge and knew everything about football, while I knew there was a player called The Fridge and a quarterback named McMahon who didn’t host the Tonight Show. Then it was Super-Bowl desert. I’d read about who won in the Tuesday-morning USA Today (there was no Monday edition). Yep, life in Lausanne can be tough. Two years ago a guy from church and I camped out at Larry’s and actually watched the WHOLE game, with a short nap before work. This year “France 2” will show it and I’ll be watching (at least the beginning). But if you still want to record it for me, I won’t say no. There are no billion-dollar commercials here, and “le quarterback court pour un touchdown… quel play!” just doesn’t make it, even if the Pittsburg quarterback has a Swiss granddad. As usual, I pick the Angels in 4.

Yes, it’s February 2. Time to live out that old American Tradition, dust off the VCR and pop in one of the greatest films of All Times: Groundhog Day. I do not feel guilty wasting time watching Bill Murray get out of bed for the zillionth time, year after year, every February 2. The “movie” is right up there with some of the great sermons of the Bible. It’s the closest thing we’ve got to a 1990’s look at Ecclesiastes. I always try to live better after watching Phil (Bill) seek pleasure and self destruction, knowledge and service. I want to go out and buy a keyboard (“My father was a piano mover”), read the classics, learn CPR and lug a car jack (and a spare tire) around with me all day… I’m always hoping to snag a kid falling out of a tree. No reason to parallel the writings of the Preacher and Phil Connors’ search in this blog. You can use your own imagination. But both creations end well. The Preacher declares that life is to be lived in the fear of God. And Phil? Well, he gets the girl. Got to go. I hear the theme song starting… Joyeux Groundhog Day!