We knew he liked her. A lot. But we didn’t know how much until he told us he was meeting her on a Monday night. In the middle of the season. A Monday night against the Giants.

The Giants.

And it wasn’t to go get her and bring her back and have her watch with us, but to meet her somewhere. And not at a bar, but the library or commons or somewhere. Someplace that wouldn’t have the game.  It was unbelievable. She didn’t know any better, but he could have explained, or picked a different night, or simply not gone. But he did.

And that tells you everything you need to know.

He left late in the first quarter, so he wasn’t there to see it. Sure, eventually he saw the replays over and over. But that’s not the same, is it? And it doesn’t matter if he didn’t miss another game that season. It doesn’t matter that they got married. Even ended up going to games as a family. He has a couple boys I think. Maybe three. Who knows? I don’t care if he’s a season ticket holder with the money he makes now from whatever job he does, or if he gets buried in a Redskins coffin. He wasn’t there for Theismann’s leg. He made a choice, and he wasn’t there.

That tells you everything you need to know.

 

Joe Mills teaches at the University of North Carolina School of the Arts. He has published four collections of poetry with Press 53, most recently Sending Christmas Cards to Huck and Hamlet. More information about his work is available at www.josephrobertmills.com.