Funny Guy Friday... The Turkey Bowl...

     About twenty years ago on Thanksgiving day, I raked a bunch of leaves in my backyard, and made an opening for a football game with my brother and my nephews who probably ranged from four to twelve years old. The game was such a hit, we played the following year and the following year, and every year thereafter on Thanksgiving day. It has become one of the most anticipated events of the holiday season... the family Turkey Bowl.
     Cheryl's family attends church on Thanksgiving day, my family plays football. Both are religious events, one will get you into heaven, the other will get you bragging rights. Heaven is for eternity, bragging rights last for one year. I want both but I realize that there are other things I can do and other days that I can attend church that will help get me to heaven; I only have one shot at bragging rights. We play football.
     All family members are eligible to play and they can bring friends, girlfriends, co-workers, whomever. Girlfriends have become crucial to a team's success. We have developed certain rules, that for the most part we actually follow. One such rule is that you have to include the younger kids and the women. So whenever I meet any of my nephews' new girlfriends, my first few questions include asking what their time is in the forty, if they know how to run a post, and if they know the difference between man to man and zone defense. I make mental notes to determine if I will pencil them in for the Dark Side (my nephew's team) or the side of all that is good and decent, the Good Guys (my team). I must admit, the boys do pretty well with athletic girls. Cheryl tells me that the girls are also very pretty and very nice, but to me, they are just another number between the white lines. It's all about the game.
     The game has evolved through the years. We have purchased shirts which I collect and keep for the year. Shirts became necessary because at least one knucklehead would always wear the wrong color shirt, and then scream for the ball when he was on defense. This is known as the Uncle Butch-scream-for-the-ball defense. This was always good for at least one disputed interception every year.
     We have also purchased a set of flags. Believe me, I got tired of hearing, "He didn't touch me," or "He only got me with one hand," even if it was me saying it. For the record, they never touched me, even with one hand, the liars. Flags solved that problem.
     We play at a high school where my brother works and if it rains, we have access to an indoor facility. Even before the indoor option, we had never had a rainout. We played no matter what.
     Each year we have a pre-game breakfast together before the big game and at the conclusion of the game, usually at dinner, I award an actual MVP trophy. This is serious stuff.
     The pre-game festivities typically begin in the first few weeks of October, when I send out the first emails. I begrudgingly acknowledge that as I get older, I can no longer compete physically with my nephews. I am sure thay would begrudgingly admit that they cannot compete with my trash talking emails. In fact, I crush in the emails every year. It is not so much the quality (the responses are often times hilarious) as it is the quantity (I respond to every email).
     The Turkey Bowl e-mails have also been a great source of information for our family as we have had the announcement of at least one wedding, and at least one pregnancy. Some people will do anything to try to climb ahead with the emails, but I am still the King. As I taunted my sister the night before the big game, "I get in your head," as I got into my best Darryl Green defensive stance. It was such a good stance, I actually tweaked my groin. Not a good sign going into the big game.
     This year was special as my sister Michel was here with her husband and three of her kids from Houston. Her son was recently married and his new bride made her Turkey Bowl debut. The good news... she runs a 5.1 forty, can run a post and can play either man to man or zone---a real keeper. The bad news... apparently, as my nemesis nephew Darth (captain of the Dark Side) makes more money, the Dark Side has expanded their scouting operation. They got to her first and snagged her. Nice move as she is the real deal.
     In fact, as much as I teased my sister, she and her family represented themselve quite well. Her one daughter sported a very impressive gelled-up mohawk, and her son has a 12 foot wing span.
     I got stuck with my sister, er uh, I selected her to the Good Guys squad. Although she has an unorthodox style of catching, she gets the job done. Most people are taught to catch with their hands, and to not let the ball get to their body. She advised that she always thought that you let it get to your body and then cradle it in---she told me that she always taught her kids this method.
     This explains a few things, including the brusies on her flat-chested daughters. Just kidding... that last line was a total joke. The girls are perfect----and by "the girls," I mean, my nieces.   
     Anyway, my sister's rib-breaking style resulted in our team's first touchdown, as a pass nearly impailed her. You know, the sound of a ball thumping someone's chest actually echoes when you are playing indoors. But it was not all good for big sis, as she looked like a wounded chicken running in place as she attempted to guard, and I use that term loosely, her new daughter-in-law. I must admit, that was a bad match-up for the Good Guys. I mistakenly relied on the fact that the new daughter-in-law would not take advantage of her new mother-in-law, but the new chick is cut-throat. Another reason to like her!
     Our family, for the most part, is full of excellent athletes. They are quick, fast, can throw and catch. In fact, I think they have even gotten faster in the past year as many of my deep throws were a few yards short this year. Either that, or my arm is getting weaker---no, no, no they are getting faster, definitely faster---I'm sure of it.
     We throw very few blocks, we save that for our larger, tougher in-laws and guests, and even then it is frowned upon. We prefer that you just "get in a tackler's way" rather than actually block---leads to fewer injuries. We like to run and catch and throw. Very wide receiver diva-like, but without the attitude.
     We try to split the teams evenly, and in the past have made some in-game trades. Of course the problem is that when you trade a Peyton Manning quality player for some scrub at half-time, the scrub usually can figure out what is going on. No bother... we sacrifice the scrub's feelings for the "best interests of the game." Hopefully the scrub is someone's boyfriend/girlfriend/friend-friend, and is not an actual family member who will be back every year.
     As I said, this year, the Good Guys won. Admittedly, we took advantage of one of the rules that our side implemented, so it was a bit of a tainted win. But a tainted win is, at the end of the day, STILL A WIN!
     The Dark Side, led by the evil Darth, marched down the field with relative ease on its first possesion. It did not look good for the Good Guys. Fortunately, we were able answer back with a scoring drive of our own, culminating in the "broken rib catch" by my sister Michel. The game went back and forth with each team scoring on every possession.
     A key play involved a missd extra point that bounced off of my niece's daughter's face. This resulted in the first controversy of the game. The ruling on the field was that the ball stuck to her face long enough for the catch to count, and the extra point was good. However, after further review, it appeared that even though the face did make the catch, she was outside of the endzone prior to the ball falling off of her face onto the ground. PAT failed.
     The tainted score came as a result of violating the girls-must-be-involved-in-a-positive-yardage-play-during-a-first-down-drive rule (it is very complicated, so I won't bore you with the details). Admittedly, it was probably a technical violation of the rule, and not a flagrant flauniting of the rule.
     Although we did not involve a female, we did include a child in that series of plays, and in the past, children have counted as women (again, very complicated, but think of the three fifths compromise and apply it to women and children). This, I am sure will be a major topic of conversation when the first emails come out next October. We have very long memories in my family!
     The MVP trophy was awarded to the Houston contingency. The dilemma is that the trophy has to be here next year, so they had to commit to coming for Thanksgiving again next year. This was a serious stipulation on their ability to accept the trophy, and take it back to Houston. The trophy is too valuable to ship by mail. My mohawked niece, sporting a much nicer, cuter post-game do for the Thanksgiving dinner, rushed to accept the award... so they are now committed.
     On Sunday, as I left to take my sister to the airport, my dad told me to drive carefully because I was carrying "precious cargo." I love my sister and her family but I could not help but think to myself, I KNOW, YOU DON'T HAVE TO TELL ME, THEY HAVE THE MVP TROPHY!!!