Yes, well, it was supposed to be a big game all right, but when the final whistle blew and the dust settled, it was simply another Detroit sports disappointment.
Carl and I were looking forward to another big night at Bumper’s Landing this fall, however, the current sports reality put a damper on those thoughts.
Many people stayed home to watch the game, and were disappointed privately, (while we, fortunately were able to actually see the disappointment up close and personal).
The game didn’t exactly play out the way numerous bartenders and restaurant proprietors had hoped that it would: a momentous victory for the local home sports team.
What we saw in reality was the waning sense of optimism that most Detroit sports fans are experiencing, no matter which one of their favorite teams takes to the field of battle.
Meanwhile here at Bumper’s the optimism always runs high.
Life is good here, (bordering on great!), and yet when regular people stumble into this respite from the troubling world, they sometimes bring their fears and disappointments with them.
So the game was on, and the faithful were watching their grid-iron heroes struggle mightily in Happy Valley.
Carl and I felt their pain, and what was worse, was the fact that we couldn’t entertain when our regular time rolled around, (so we wouldn’t cause a distraction or be more of a nuisance than usual). Nope, we were relegated to sitting on the bench, watching all the misery play out in front of us from the sidelines.
We were ready to play but did not wish disturb the palpable tension in the air.
As half-time approached, it was evident that the game had already taken a turn for the worse. Time for us to swoop in and rescue the night with song!
We jumped right into it with some Jimmy Buffet, urging everyone to leave the stadium of grief and find that destination of relief that was located somewhere near a place called Margaritaville.
We blasted the tune, the vibe and the positive attitude with song, rhythm and musical optimism.
And . . . it worked!
Just as half-time ended, and we put the instruments back away for a while, the boys in maize and blue began playing with a different attitude and new-found resolution.
We stood by and watched it all unfold in front of us, as the game entered the fourth quarter, and approached its ultimate conclusion.
The home-town boys came all the way back and were poised to make history, when it suddenly all fell away, just like the pass that tumbled to the turf.
The game was over; time for some of the faithful to head out into the uncertain night.
The hearty ones that stayed were lucky enough to have Bob and Carl close at hand to rescue the evening.
Our music picked up right where we had left off, fast-paced and optimistic. There would be another “Big” game soon. Ok, maybe not soon, (work with me), I’m trying hard to be very optimistic.
In other words, the sun also rises, (to quote Hemingway), and Detroit fans will cheer once again.
In the mean time, Carl and I will play the songs, the melodies and rhythms that are the soundtrack to the music of their lives.
Rb
