Go Packers!

It is Monday Night! It is football season. The Packers are playing. You can sit home and watch it on television alone...or... You can go where others who like football gather. Why, you ask? Why not? Isolation is one of the biggest problems for singles. We tend to hide in our homes in front of the television set, or at the office working overtime. We justify this with excuses like, our children need us. We don't have the money. It's winter. The result, we stay home. It takes real effort to drag ourselves out of the house, especially in the winter, (for those who live in cold country).

I was standing in my living room one Sunday morning, waiting for a Packers game to begin. In the west this meant 11:00 A.M. I was alone. I was lonely. I was bored. I knew there had to be a better way. If I didn't do something about it, I would still be sitting in my living room a month from now, a year from now....well, you get the picture.

The phone book caught my eye. I thumbed through the pages until I found the page I wanted. I had passed a sports bar every day for weeks and had wondered what went on in one of those places. Until now, it had been a man's place, like the old barber shops where men gathered to talk and complain about their wives. Memories of the club house in my back yard, where my brother and his cronies held their secret, "men only" meetings when we were kids, flashed through my mind. I picked up my purse and keys and headed for my car. Today I would experience a sports bar. Well, it was a start. Now let me explain.... I do not drink or smoke, but I do like football. I had had to learn to like it in order to spend time with my ex-husband while we were married. It was a positive spill-over from that relationship. One that offered a unique opportunity.

As I walked in, I saw the rows of televisions that lined the walls of the bar. I could smell the grilled hamburgers and the smoke that had settled over everything. There were only a couple of women in the bar. I found a bar stool at a table that set directly across from a television where green and yellow jerseys filled the screen. The game had just started. The packers were driving up field with the ball.

The waitress brought me a steaming cup of coffee and a menu. I ordered the football special and settled in to watch the game. I was fascinated by the noise and excitement that was increasing as more and more men strolled into the bar to watch. They stood around my table and talked noisily, shouting at appropriate moments as the Packers moved the ball effortlessly.

And they scored! The room exploded. I jumped up and did my usual end zone dance, shouting and yelling with the rest. I looked around. Everyone was looking at me. For the first time they noticed that I had invaded their turf. There was a silence as an uneasiness spread around the table. Then as quickly as it had started, the attention ended as they turned to the television just as the extra point was kicked, dead center over the goal posts.

From that point on, I was part of the group. No one seemed to mind that I was there. We talked over plays, made snide remarks about the opposing team's quarterback, and talked about past games and future hopes.

I enjoyed the morning. I felt privileged to have been a part of this male ritual. I had participated in their usual "Dog Pound" antics. I had been accepted, in a way, as part of the group. It was an entertaining oppertunity I allowed myself to experience one more time before hitting the road to my next company assignment.

From that moment on I knew that I could walk into any sports bar in the country and enjoy a football game. It was somehow comforting to know I had created another outlet which would help to prevent isolation and loneliness, no matter where my job took me.

For those who like football, don't mind a little smoke, and want to get out of the house, I suggest you try the sports bar experience.

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