Frenzy and Football Fans

Gayle F. Arrowood

On Halloween a little before noon, two men carried a keg of beer into a large apartment and dropped it into an old washtub holding several layers of ice.

"Wait a minute, ice pick," Benny said. "Hold this thing up a sec, if you think you can, while I grab the pick out." The red-haired Ben loved to point out his friend's non-muscular frame. They made an odd combination. Benny was 5’ 10” 200 pounds, all muscle; the other, 5’ 4” 120 pounds, all bones. Ben thought he was smarter too, what with a degree in mechanical engineering. Jake didn't mind because he was an accountant, not so dumb either.

Obligingly, Jake tilted the keg to one side. Benny dug into the ice, pretending he was having trouble finding it. Once Jake said, "That's enough," he let go. Both men howled with laughter because Ben's hand and the pick almost got smashed as the 50-pound keg came crashing into the ice. A macho thing with them.

"Heidi, we're back," Benny called to his wife. "Quick chop up the rest of the cube before it gets warm."

"I'm getting the food out," she replied, "and want to catch the pre-game stuff."

"That means I chop," Benny said.

The dedicated bachelor laughed and shook his head.

But Benny laughed even harder. "You just wait buster, somebody's gonna get her hooks in you yet, and you'll be chopping ice and moving furniture around every couple weeks just like the rest of us married men. You just wait. And I know a lot of guys that are going be there, howling while you do it."

"It'll never happen, dream on dude." Jake smirked.

This time Benny shook his head. "Earth to Pluto...Earth to Pluto..."

*****

Once the food was spread on the coffee table and TV trays, everyone got a huge mug of beer and sat down on easy chairs angled around the coffee table and a big screen TV. The Purdue-Notre Dame football game started at 1:30, Heidi and Benny graduated from the former and Jake from the latter. This was their annual rivalry day, and the harassment hit the ceiling all afternoon, at least in previous years it had.

They piled huge plates with crescent rolls, turkey, beef, ham, corned beef, cheeses, lettuce, tomato, mayo, chips, and home-made dip, potato salad, and coleslaw. All taken with ample swigs of beer. By the time the game began, these three had been hitting the sole beverage hardily.

*****

On the kickoff play, Purdue made a touchdown. The couple hooted and howled, she slapped Jake around a bit—with her 5-7, 140 pound frame—all in their traditional fun. Jake knew his turn would come, so he took it in stride.

"Shit," she yelled, "I'm so nervous I can't stay in one place, gotta do something..." She jumped up and down, plopped into a chair and slapped her knees as hard as she could, popped off the chair then twirled, slopping beer into her mouth...

"Aw hell Heidi, get outta the way, will ya? Go chop some ice," Benny yelled as the men sat down again, after Purdue made the extra point.

She'd barely started to chop when Benny screamed and slammed his fists on the chair. "Heidi, we stole the ball and we're running for another touchdown."

She raced into the family room and stood behind Jake's chair, which was right in front of the wide archway.

"Those bastards, that's a foul...the refs beat their wives...the assholes..." Jake was yelling loud enough to split the apartment in two.

The men pounded their fists on arms of the easy chairs. Automatically, Heidi slammed hers down. And the couple's frenzy over two touchdowns rose higher and higher, they pounded harder and harder, even though Jake had turned quiet.

After Purdue again scored the extra point, Heidi zoomed back to the ice and chopped like a robot until she was so out of it everything was a haze. Once her arm gave out, elbows collapsed on the rim of the old rickety wash tub used for games ever since they met. Her breathing rose and fell so hard her lungs felt like they might flip-flop. Her eyes were closed all this time, she tried to calm herself by saying, "it's only a game—just a game—only a game—a nonsense game..."

When she opened her lids, all she saw was red...Shit, am I drunk, she slurred...but every time she tried to readjust her eyes to see what she thought she should see—white sparkling crystals—her eyes continued to bring up an image of a watery red all over the ice.

When Benny shouted, "Fucking Irish made a touchdown, shit," she realized it was blood. Arms, shirt, jeans soaked to her skin, but she didn't hurt, except her diaphragm from breathing too hard.

She tried to cry out for Benny. But once she glanced into the family room, her throat chilled into Arctic ice: Jake was hanging over the side of the easy chair. A pool of blood beneath his head grew bigger and bigger by the second.

Pissed off, Benny grabbed their mugs and mumbled, "Hey dude you need another...what the fuck you doin...." He stared at their friend, immediately focused into the strange silence and screamed, "Heidi... Heidi..." just as a commercial blared.