You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy.
The Game of the Century.
LSU vs Alabama.
The game itself is the center of the sports universe.
WHY NOT? #1 versus #2.
The Bayou Tigers vs. The Crimson Tide.
I’m interested in the game, but on this morning, I find myself more interested in the ESPN GAME DAY SHOW.
That’s because my oldest son is a freshman in Tuscaloosa and as the song says, THEY’RE COMING TO HIS CITY.
The boy has been up since the crack of dawn securing his position in the game day crowd outside Brian Denny Stadium. He has wiggled his way through a phalanx of barricades and man made obstacles to stand behind the Home Depot set.
I turn on ESPN and begin my Where’s Waldo adventure to find him.
As I watch the show, I see a swirling sea of crazy. I see red and White pulsing kids and hard hat wearing students, jumping and screaming. I see flags and pom poms and kids rocking up and down like this is an early morning rave.
I see bleary eyed teenagers who are running on adrenaline and youth and hangovers from last week.
The signs the kids have made fill the screen. Most are big and bold and creative.
LES MILES IS A VEGETARIAN
LOST SABAN UNIVERSITY
JESUS LOVES THE TIDE
GEAUX HOME TIGERS
LS WHO?
My son texts me to say he too is holding up a sign. I laugh out loud looking at the insanity on my screen.
The wild mob is undulating like a crimson tide sea monster. There are literally hundreds of signs. I only see the ones that jump off the screen and kick me square in the the teeth.
My son’s sign does not do that. It is on construction paper and says “SIZE MAKES A DIFFERENCE”
Size makes a difference?
For some reason I think he meant to say “SIZE MATTERS.” But it came out size makes a difference.
EITHER WAY…
His sign is clever and features a picture of an elephant and a tiger. Under the elephant, the caption 8.5 tons. Under the tiger a small caption that says: 950 pounds.
If I had a microscope I could read all the facts associated with the size discrepancies between the two mascots. Perhaps my son listed their genus and species and what these animals like to eat. If this was a class project this sign would be an A-plus.
But when you are trying to read a poster from outer space beamed across the spectrum on a satellite and then downloaded to living rooms all over the country, you need a sign that is big and bold and captures attention.
I wish he had consulted me on his art direction. I would have told him that Size does matter especially when it comes to signs in a crowd of ten thousand people. When a crowd is screaming and gyrating and undulating with ferocity, size matters.
Picking out a single solitary sign in this crowd is like picking out one bee in a bee hive of a million bees. They all buzz, and fly and merge as one and none of the bees distinguish themselves from the rest of the hive.
The key is to be a bee with an attitude. If you are a gigantic neon pink bee, you are going to stand out.
And that is why huge signs with huge letters that scream
HELO KITTY AND GO CRIMSON TIDE – grab my attention.
These signs, like mutated iridescent bees, jump off the screen.
I look for my son’s sign. I scan the craziness looking for a picture of a tiger and an elephant and some fine print borrowed from a sales contract.
I think to myself: size really does matter when it comes to making a sign.
Regardless of his graphic arts acumen, I love the fact he is there. I love the fact he woke up early and made a sign and fought his way into the mob to cheer on his school. I love his enthusiasm in this pit of enthusiasm.
He is at one of the biggest games in recent years. He is the backdrop for a broadcast that is hyping a game that needs no more hype.
With the cheerleaders flipping through the air, Herbstreit and Corso and Fowler talk X’s and O’s while Sweet Home Alabama courses through the quad.
While I scan the crowd to no avail, I see my son’s facebook post. He’s no dummy, taking pix of sideline hottie, Erin Andrews. Hot is hot and yes size does matter. Just ask Al the Elephant. And perhaps Erin Andrews.
My son has been talking about this game for weeks. He was never a huge football fan as a youngster, but since going to Bama, football is his new passion. When we talk now, sometimes I feel like I’m talking to Al Michaels breaking down positional substitutions. I think I’ll get the kid a telestrator for Christmas.
So I sit on this Saturday morning and stare at a 50 inch plasma, pausing and rewinding and trying to find his sign in a jungle of signs. It looks like ants swarming an ant hill. Finding his sign would be like trying to find one coconut on an island of coconuts.
Then, another text, another clue.
I’m behind Urban Meyers’ head. I’m next to the banana, standing beside Gumby, he writes.
SIZE MATTERS!
And then I find it. I spot the sign with a picture of something with some words so small I need a magnifying glass. Nobody else knows what this sign says, but I do, and I feel proud.
I feel pride as I watch his little sign fighting for position in the crowd, an angry bee trying to distinguish itself from the other angry bees.
I get a text. I’m moving forward, trying to get better position.
My little general, flanking the other signs, storming the beach, getting his little SIZE MATTERS sign into position for the sporting universe to see.
I love it. I laugh. Ah to be a teenager again when size matters and your whole day centers around a pep rally and the game of the century.
SIZE MATTERS or SIZE MAKES A DIFFERENCE. Elephants weigh more than Tigers and some other sentences that have no business being on a pep rally sign.
Roll Tide!
and that is crazy.