Seventy-two years ago, Capital Records released a recording of a young Andy Griffith. He recorded under the name Deacon Andy Griffith. Side A of the record contained a comedy monologue that was almost six minutes long. It became Griffith’s first big hit.
Griffith played the part of a naïve country boy who stumbled upon a college football game by accident. He had never seen one before, so he had no idea what was going on or any understanding of the objective of the game. Deacon Griffith described the football game as some kind of a contest between two teams, played on a cow pasture with white stripes painted all across it. They fought one another all afternoon for possession of an oblong little pumpkin that appeared to be so tough no one could have eaten it anyway. The game was controlled by several men in convict suits.
The title of that breakout hit monologue was, “What It Was, Was Football.” Although it was a hit before I had even hit the ground for the first time, years later, I must have listened to it a hundred times.
I probably would be embarrassed to say how many football games I have watched in my lifetime. I’m old enough to have seen the very first Super Bowl, even though it wasn’t called that at the time. I do know a little more about football that Deacon Griffith did. A few years ago, on a mission trip to Asuncion, Paraguay, I attempted to tell the church there a football story.
My translator looked at me and said, “They call soccer football. They will think you are talking about soccer.”
I saw my first live soccer game there. They actually invited me to play with them, but after they watched me “trying” to play, they invited me to sit on the sideline and watch. The game made about as much sense to me as football had to Andy.
Plainview High School, when I was growing up there in the 60s and 70s, had football and basketball. The closest thing we had to soccer was playground kickball. I don’t know much about soccer, but I’m learning.
Drew, my grandson, has played soccer almost as long as he’s been in school. He is now a junior at Glenwood High School, where he plays on the varsity team. Obviously, I have now been to quite a few soccer games. I still don’t know what they are doing!
In spite of what they call it in Latin America, soccer is not American football. They play on a field, but there are no yard lines and no first downs. It truly is football in the sense that it is played almost entirely with their feet. The only player who can catch the ball is the goalie. The only time they can throw the ball is to put it in play. Even that has to be with both hands and overhead. This may be where the phrase, “Look Mom, no hands,” originated! They can and do hit the ball with their head or chest. They have referees, but they don’t wear stripes. They call offsides, but I don’t know where the line is. I do know when they score…usually.
Yes, I am a proud grandfather. I love watching my little buddy, who is now taller than me, race up and down that field at speeds I can only dream about. Even if I don’t understand everything he is doing out there, I do love watching him do it! I think he is a winger, and I am winging it, but I’m definitely a fan now. Grands will do that!
Bill King can be reached at bkpreach@yahoo.com.
