The first thing I want to make you aware of was his driving. He always wanted to drive, and we went in his car. I am not exxagerating in the least when I say that he often hit 100 miles per hour. One Hundred miles per hour!!!
Bear in mind that I am not a fast driver myself. When I was young and foolish, I did not drive fast. It's just not a part of my personality. Bear in mind also that John was an old man who could check out at any moment. Not only that, but a deer could run out in front of the car, a tire could blow, someone could pull out in front of us. It's not safe for anyone, no matter how good of a driver, to cruise a Mississippi highway-- any highway-- at 100-miles per hour.
When we got to the campus of the University of Alabama for the first time, it did not take us long to learn how to do a ball game there. Anywhere you can park, there is a bus stop nearby. Just get on the bus and don't have to say a thing or know a thing. You will be dropped at the school's quadrangle. From there, you can see the stadium a short walk away. And let me tell you about that quadrangle. There would be enough good-smelling, good-looking food to make you feel like and tempt you to become a beggar.
Once at the stadium, John liked to ask questions. Once we found which gate we were to go in, John would always keep asking people. I never understood that. When you know, you know. But John always kept asking where gate so and so was.
We always ate lunch somewhere near the stadium. There were all sorts of venders around selling hamburgers, chicken, barbecue and the like. We would find a spot on some grass and eat our pre-game meal. A huge Alabama bus would pull up, and the players would walk to the stadium while fans, twenty deep, would jostle for position to get a glimpse of the ballers up close and personal.
Then it was time to make our way to our seats which were always the cheap ones because that is all we could afford. We had to climb up those endzone seats that are as high as the largest mountains I have ever seen. On our first game there, we were two rows from the top which almost killed John to get there and almost scared me to death. Really. I am afraid of heights and when we got up there, I sat down and wrapped my elbows under the seat behing me. I felt like I would tumble down the seats like a fallen mountain climber. When the stadium filled up, I was no longer afraid because the people in front of me gave me a sense of safety.
Another problem with being up that high was that you could not see the football. When the quarterback would drop back for a pass, you knew he as throwing the ball, but you could not see the ball. You were watching the recievers and trying to see it they looked like they caught something and were trying not to get tackled.
After the game, we then faced a long drive home. Bear in mind, I always had to preach the next day. John, I bet-- knowing him-- didn't drag out of bed until noon or later. But I did enjoy those trips, the games, the time with John. Last year, 2021, John wanted to go to the games, but I refused. I feared he would get COVID and die, and I would feel guilty the rest of my life.
Now he is gone and I remember what my wife said to me one day. I was fussing about John. I was always fussing about John. "You're going to miss him one day," she told me. That day is now. I wish we could go to an Alabama game together one more time. But I know whose he is and where he is. I will see him again.
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