How to watch football

It would be accurate for someone to say, “The 1945 Flathead High School football team lost every game in which George Ostrom played;” however, in the interest of accuracy, it should be pointed out the team won some in which he did not play. In defense I would like to point out “that kid from the hills” had no previous experience and was assigned to play on the line as “pulling guard” weighing in at 125 pounds ... counting the equipment.

At last came the night for my only chance at great glory and distinction. The Braves were getting over powered by the future state champions Missoula Spartans in Dornblazer Stadium at the University of Montana.

Our first string guard got clobbered, and coach Rip Wilson became wildly desperate. He yelled, “Ostrom get out there.” With uncontrolled excitement, I grabbed my helmet and leaped off the bench. The pain wouldn’t have been so bad when I almost broke my nose by jamming the helmet on backwards, but Missoula girls sitting behind our bench yelled unflattering things like, “Yeah, Ostrom. Your pants are on backwards, too.”

Did grow quite a bit in the service and got to play halfback in an Army Occupation League game next fall at Frankfurt, Germany. For the second game, I removed my ill-fitting thigh pads because they hindered running speed. Got blindsided by a hard block and had to be carried off the field. Was sent to the 97th General Hospital in Stuttgart for treatment of a “calcified hematoma of the upper left femur.”

In spite of this undistinguished gridiron career, I became a football fanatic, and when my kids were still home, I insisted on watching games on the TV. Because my chair was clear across the room from our small TV set, I watched with field glasses. Iris claims it was not uncommon to find me holding glasses to my eyes while sound asleep.

Do recall a few times when our kids brought little friends over to show how their dad watched football and they would stand around giggling.

All that changed about 20 years ago when we got a big-screen set. No more field glasses, but a new thing developed. Found the joys and woes of complete involvement were enhanced by firmly clasping an official NFL football. There were a few problems at first, like when I threw a “winning touchdown” for the Vikings that ended up in the fireplace. On occasions when one or both boys were home, they had a tendency to make fun of their father’s “weird behavior.”

That’s not the case anymore. With both boys back home in the Flathead, the last dozen years they also got into the football holding habit. Iris and the girls thought all three of us a bit “weird” as we sat together in the living room on a Sunday. Now with Shannon at the Veteran’s Home in Columbia Falls, it has become Clark’s practice to go watch the pro games with his brother, and they keep their footballs up there.

Problem arose during recent pro playoffs when Vets Home had a ban on visitors for a while. Clark called me and said he’d be over for the games and wanted to share “my” football. Called Shannon and asked if he thought it would be fair for me to let Clark have control of the pigskin for a quarter of each game. He said that seemed rather stingy on my part. Iris felt the same way, so I reluctantly gave in to familial pressure that Sunday and allowed Clark to hold my football during the first half of the game, but took it back immediately at the end of each of each second quarter.

Out of all this business a new question has risen. Before we retired the other night, Iris said she had something serious to discuss. I couldn’t believe what she asked. She said, “I’ve been wondering if you are planning to start holding your rifle ... during the hunting shows?”

G. George Ostrom is a national award-winning Hungry Horse News columnist. He lives in Kalispell.