Outside it’s treacherous icicle season. Inside we wear warm socks and layers while candles burn and familiar company shares meaty and sweet comfort foods. You would think we were embracing hygge (hoo-gah), the Danish lifestyle all about enjoying life’s simple pleasures. But this particular day was shaped in a decidedly American way.
Sometimes when you least expect it something wonderful happens. Like when the Buffalo Bills, the mediocre football team that I’ve been loyal to since childhood, happens to squeak into the playoffs. As any fanatical family would do, we freaked out. My sister and her husband planned a party.
Game day. I wore a blue Bills T-shirt and black lounge pants with hope in my heart–I had to be able to jump up and celebrate at a moments notice. I anticipated kickoff time, It didn’t matter how tired or aching my eyes might feel, I wasn’t going to miss this fun afternoon. My eye drops and sunglasses tagged along as backups. My jet-lagged parents, fresh off a trip to California, would be there too. My sister and her husband welcomed us and pointed out the big spread in the dining room. Crispy chicken strips, tender sliders, chips, dips, pretzels and candy. Later a duo of incredible desserts emerged–a red velvet frosted cake complete with a football on top, a peanut butter brownie trifle cloud. What’s not to love here people.
Stockton, sensing the game could over-energize my fam, smartly prepared to go on a mountain bike ride. He’s still a little scarred from attending that windy Bills/Pats game. Everyone else settled around the television. For the first quarter the only letdown was off-screen when my dog released a bombcyclone on the kitchen floor. She was benched.
We follow play by play, punt to punt. I texted my aunt in western New York. Already she was banned to the bedroom television for yelling too loud, too often. It happens. We carry on.
There were cheers. There were sighs and groans. No one broke a table like Bill Cowher a la Billsmafia antics. As a ref blew the final whistle it didn’t really matter that our team narrowly lost, it’s only a game. On a cold weekend in January like many many years ago we were inside with great food, laughs and plenty of warmth. For this Bills game, we figured out how to hygge it out.
How do you beat winter’s freeze? What food do you like at parties? What sports team have you followed despite it’s losing records? Tell me about it.