Mr. Announcer Guy, may I have your autograph?

Football. Yes, it's here again. The season where wives become "football season widows" as they mourn the loss of the television and conversations that aren't filled with pigskin metaphors (insert the famous speech given by world's greatest orator, Charlie Brown's teacher, here: Wah wah wah wah....). Shouts and grunts come from living rooms all over America while loving wives roll their eyes, purchase earplugs, and take up hobbies (which reminds me....I need a new crochet needle).

Football is a huge part of our family because my husband is a complete fanatic. He loves the game and could probably qualify for some honor in the Guiness Book of World Records for all the facts and trivia he has stored in his brain. I'm a big fan of Chief Osceola (but can't tell you a thing about the team he represents). And who doesn't love to participate in a good, hearty "WHOOOOOO!" right in the middle of Rocky Top during a Tennessee game?!

That is about the extent of my football involvement, but for my husband, Friday night is sacred. He enjoys supporting local teams by attending a variety of high school games. Some are great games. Some are blowouts. Some annoy him so badly that he leaves at half-time. Tonight's game was, shall we say, "anything but typical."

***Disclaimer: The concept of "Anything But Typical" will be repeated over and over throughout the life of this blog. I can not be held accountable for any profound life-changes that may occur as a result of your eyes being opened to amazing feats of extraordinary activity. You will begin to see it on your own and will find joy as you discover that your world and the people in it are (and should be) anything but typical. You have been warned.***

When he came home even more giddy than usual, I was naturally curious. He recounted the events of the evening and was blown away by, of all people, the announcer. Now, I don't know if you've been to a high school football game or not, but some announcers are cheesy and some are dull and boring (which doesn't make it any easier for the football-challenged, I might add). This announcer was apparently so "southern" that our northern friends may have needed an interpreter. You could almost hear the sweet tea guzzlin' and the buscuit 'n gravy soppin' going on in the announcer's booth, but what was so extraordinary is the atmosphere that he created. One comment that stood out was when he called out one player for making a touchdown, then followed it up with, "Good job, boy! Your daddy's gonna be proud of that one!"

The night was full of comments like that. They were unpolished and unprofessional. They were giggle-inducing and jolly. They were supportive and encouraging. They made everyone at the game feel like they were a part of a family that was happy to be having fun together, even though it was a "we're just playing for the fun of it" type of game. We plan to go back as a family just so we can all encounter the joy this announcer produces.

I may have a new hero that has risen to the top of my short list of football favs (read: Chief Osceola & Rocky Top). Do you realize that your life matters? You may think you are "just the announcer," but your words, attitude, and encouragement (or, ahem, discouragement) have a profound effect on those around you. Do you make those around you feel like family or do you just wake them up when it's over? Are people's lives enriched because of an encounter they had with you?

We each have a choice with our words. We can speak life or death into people's lives bringing either joy or sorrow respectively. What would life be like if we all were more like this announcer and we intentionally tried to encourage others, drawing them into the family instead of making them feel like "visitors" in our lives?

Hmmmm.....I think I'll go grab some sweet tea and join my hubby on the couch for the Friday night Football Highlights on the news. Where IS that old jersey?