Harbaugh Family Football (Fiction)
EDIT: Third time lucky. (i hope) Originally posted as diary due to length. Moved to forum due to technical difficulties (ineptitude) I hope this effort succeeds and you are amused. Thanks for the tutorial JGB.
The following may be a true story. No names have been changed to protect the guilty. No Harbaughs were harmed in the making of this diary.
A friend’s family used to live next door to the Harbaughs in Ann Arbor and while visiting a couple years ago we observed them engaging in some family activities. They were in the backyard tossing a football around and my friend explained that every Memorial weekend they had a pick-up game to celebrate the onset of summer and impending football season. He said he’d witnessed several and that they always provided great competition and entertainment. The houses were fairly close together, so we could hear a fair amount of the following conversation taking place:
“Daylight’s burning, are you guys ready to play yet? It’s me and Addy, Katy and Little Jack against Mom, Dad, John and Sarah. We’ll be Michigan and you guys can be OSU.”
“Honey, are you sure…”
“ Honey? What’s honey? That’s something a fat derelict bear steals from a bunch of industrious bees while mumbling oh bother, oh bother. I told you not to call me that when we play. Call me Coach Jim or Captain Comeback.”
“Whatever, Coach Jim. You want to play all the kids on one team? That seems kind of unfair.”
“Unfair? I’ll tell you what’s unfair. Calling them kids is unfair. They’re not kids. They’re jackhammers. They’re Harbaughs! They’re Jimmyhammers! They were born and bred to attack every day with an enthusiasm unknown to mankind. Are we gonna play football, or what? End zones can be the corner of the garage at this end and the oak tree down there. 4 downs to get 10 yards. 5 Pasadena rush. Tackle. You guys can have the ball first. Let’s play!”
“Jimmy…er, Coach Jim, maybe we should play two-hand touch. That way nobody gets hurt. Remember two years ago when Johnny lacerated his spleen when you blindsided him into the gazebo?”
.”Two-hand touch?! Football is the last bastion of hope for toughness in America in men, in males. But I guess Johnny-wad over there doesn’t get that. Fine, two-hand touch. What a bunch of babies.”
“GO BLUE!”
“Coach Daddy, when are we going to meet Anna and Elsa?”
“Grrrr… Pay tacko!”
“Do we have to go through this every year? This is just for fun, right?”
“This is serious. This is football. It started back when they had leather helmets before they started putting numerals on the side and names on the backs of jerseys -- that playing time would be earned. And starting positions would be earned, and your contribution to the team being earned. It's been that way since the inception of football. Just for fun?! How in Christ’s name did you ever play a down with an attitude like that?”
“Hey guys! Joani sent me out to get some milk, so I thought I’d stop by. What’cha doin’? Can I play?”
“Oh great, it’s Crean. I hope to God you get whole milk and not that candy ass 2% or skim crap, or my sister will kick your sissy-ass. By the way, you just missed a call from Coach Knight. They’re putting on a chair throwing seminar over at Assembly Hall and wanted you to be the special guest target.
“ OMG, I gotta scoot. I’ve waited so long for this. I hope he uses the red plastic and metal ones. The bounce factor is incredible if you get enough English on the throw.”
“I still can’t believe my daughter married that putz.”
“Grrrr…Tacko!”
“Are we gonna play football or stand here and wait for the second coming of Bo?”
“I’m getting cold. Can we do it another time Jimmy?”
“Daddy, what about Anna and Elsa? You promised!”
“Honey, I’m kinda hungry.”
“I could eat something. What d’ya say Jimbo?”
“I need a nap.”
“Cold? Tired? Hungry? What is this, Ellis freakin’ island? And I told you to call me…Oh forget it. You guys do what you want, I’m going down to the strip mall and play myself a double header.”
“Tacko?”
I didnt want to say anything because you worked hard on that, but....wtf?
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I will say, Tom Crean using "out to get some milk" as an excuse to stop by somewhere and butt in on a game of football (or basketball...or indeed chess, Risk, cribbage, etc...). That seems rather true to the man's strange character. Actually, I wonder if he uses that on the recruiting trail, knocking on doors and saying, "Hi, I am Tom Crean. I was just checking out the selection of fresh greens at the market down the street and I couldn't help but notice that your son is on the Rivals 150...."
"I'm looking for more of an artisinal shooting guard. Not particularly concerned with shelf life."
...and spoke with him on a couple of occassions. He seemed ultracompetetive then and we all know he is now. I akso spent a holiday with a friend whose family played pick-up games for the holidays and his brother was similarly hypercompetetive. I related those two nonrelated things and the preceding is the bastard child of that unholy union.
Although I'm also looking forward to the remaining softball/baseballl exploits of our Alma Mater. There's also a myriad of outdoor summer activities to be enjoyed, In fact, there's so much to do and read on this site that I wouldn't waste another comment on this unworthwhile thread if I were you.
This can't come fast enough!
Posts like these remind me when you visit a friend's house and they make a very elaborate & fancy meal that unfortunately tastes like absolute shit. You know you have to be encouraging cause they put a LOT of work into the preparation and cooking but unfortunately it just didnt turn out the way the cook hoped.
So you grab your water, wash down whatever you can and finish what's on your plate hoping your host (who is watching your every bite nervously asking "do you really like it?) won't notice the face you cant help but make every time your taste buds make contact with what's in your mouth.
So with that in mind.....you worked really hard on this one OP. You're a good, hard worker!
