And I Wonder

Random thoughts that occurred to me while watching the OU-KU game Saturday in row 40, section 6, courtesy of Travis, a minister buddy of mine and his congregants who weren't using their season tickets:

- When 85,000 people say the same thing at the same time, it's plenty frickin' loud.

- Lasik must be a miracle procedure and a lot more widespread than I thought, because everybody around me could see a pass interference call (or non-call) better than the line judge fifteen feet away from the players. Or perhaps they all had bionic eyes. In which case: Excellent calls, guys who could use their super-powered robotic limbs to dismember me!

- When the sweet little 70-something grandma behind and to your left switches from talking about baking cookies with her grandkids to pointing out how the line can't trap-block to save their lives and how the defenders are bending at the waist when they tackle instead of at the knees, you're in serious football country.

- College football is a darn fun game to attend.

- Wondering out loud how the players did on their midterms will cause chuckles.

- Nobody likes the TV timeout guy.

- When the quarterback sets a record for most passing yards in a game for his school, that's an exciting statistic. Watching it happen -- making the game approximately eight weeks long -- is less than exciting.

- Yes, "exciting statistic" is an oxymoron.

- The OU team's method of sending in plays -- three assistant coaches (two decoys, one for real) waving their arms around like someone dropped tasers in their shorts -- is kind of funny.

- The fact that the team will get to the line, stop, look up at the sidelines so Moe, Larry and Curly (h/t Travis) can do some more interpretive dance until about five seconds are left on the play clock is not funny and actually kind of annoying.

- Believe it or not, there are still twirlers in the world who wear the little circus-y outfits and spin their batons during the band performances. The young lady at OU was quite good, but I'd thought the twirler was like the Studentathelete-asaurus: a fondly-remembered feature of a bygone day (like, say, when I was in school).