Epic Battle [10.19.08]

It is Homecoming weekend; a time of pep rallies, passing on the crowns, and football games. Speaking of, the football game was going quite well in every sense of the word. The Dutchmen were up, the sun was shining, and the band was about to perform its halftime show. Since most of my friends are in the "Pride of the Valley Marching Band", I was more than happy to watch them in action. However, it was sort of difficult to see much less enjoy the show when three-fourths of the crowd decides to visit the concession stands. So there I was, trying my darnedest to put on a happy face. Now that I think about it, it couldn't have mattered - for no one could see my face with the continuous train of people moving in front of me. I cocked my head left for a moment, then tilted it to the right for a better view. Every so often, I would be blessed with a vertically challenged passerby, with which I instantly stretched my neck as far as it would go, hoping to see over them. After a few moments of this, I noticed a specific sore thumb in my peripheral vision. It was the opposing team's coach marching down the stadiums steps. Once on the main level, he turned a quick left and bumped into the elderly man sitting in front of me. Like any polite person, he asked to be excused. The old man looked at his team jacket and fired back: "You're not excused". This was accompanied with the 72-year-old finger waiving weakly in disapproval. The coach walked away stunned, and I could not help but laugh. What was the old man thinking? Did he seriously feel that his feeble finger held some sort of startling fear? Compared to all the other threats out there, I do not consider a pointing elderly man to be one of them.