We went to the Army game on Saturday, guests of friends. As we were leaving the house, my wife said to me, "I don’t want you getting in fights with anyone in the stands." That had upset her the last time we went, two years ago.
An Army kick receiver had failed to call for a fair catch and a special-teams player from UMass had cut him down like a tree just as he caught the ball. I said it was legal. At least I think I was on that side of the argument, I can’t remember now. The guy next to me disagreed, that a player is allowed to catch the ball, and we got into it heatedly. Then the rest of the game we didn’t talk, and my wife was mad at me for spoiling such a beautiful fall day.
But a couple days later my wife had come home from the city and said her therapist had said: "That’s what guys do at a football game, they get into fights! Haven’t you ever been to a football game?"
So on Saturday, I reminded my wife about that piece of wisdom. She shook her head. "He was wrong, he was stupid," she said, "that’s why I quit him."
My wife believes what Benjamin Franklin stated so strongly in his Autobiography, the goals of social interaction are entertainment and information, not contention, and so socializing should go smoothly, even if it’s with a stranger.
The last time Army lost. This time Army won, and sitting in the stands my friend pointed out to me in the next row a neighbor of his who taught at West Point and served in Afghanistan, an Army officer. "He told me, ‘they will never fight for us. Never.’" Afterward my friend introduced me, and I thanked him for his service. I wanted to ask him about Afghanistan, but I knew better than to bring it up then.
