Lori Clinch

Lori Clinch is from North Platte. She is the mother of four sons. Her email address is loriclinch2010@gmail.com.

I love Husker football.

I know that sounds crazy coming from someone like me, but it’s true.

When I first met my husband Pat, I could have cared less about the Big Red. The man lived and breathed the game, and at the time, it was his only hobby.

The poor dear even spent good money taking me to the stadium to watch it live and in person. I think he deeply regretted the decision when I asked a question or two and probably started to rethink the entire relationship after I asked him what a first down was.

But Pat stayed the course and actually asked me to marry him, knowing full good and well that I had very little knowledge about pass interference, encroachment and those proverbial false starts.

Then we had those sons of ours who had a passion for the game as big as dear old Dad’s. They lived it, they breathed it and they played it with ferocity.

Meanwhile, dear old Mom sat in the stands with her cronies enjoying conversations that included, but weren’t limited to, “What do you mean they won’t let us use that coupon for their Door Buster items?”

It was a slow go, to be honest with you, but eventually football grew on me and on occasion I would throw out a comment during a football game that surprised even me. “Hey that was clearly pass interference!” or “Did you see that block in the back?!”

Once I impressed my fellow sports fans when I threw a fist in the air and shouted out, “Did you see that horse collar?”

Throughout those years, I not only began watching the games with my family of men, but all of their friends, and if you live four miles south of town and still want to be the Mom on the block, I’ll tell you how: jalapeno poppers.

Word to the wise on that one folks.

We watched the Huskers play. We shook our fists, squealed with delight and on a few occasions heads dropped as the final moments ticked off of the clock of a losing game and guests walked out the door in despair.

Well, these days our four sons are living in their own homes and making jalapeno poppers for their own guests and it’s just Pat and I in our antique shop watching the big game.

A couple of years ago, we followed the advice of those sons and did away with cable TV. It’s worked out well for the rest of the year, but during the 2018 football season, I couldn’t get the game to come on in the antique shop to save my soul.

In sheer desperation, I texted those techy sons of ours and received nothing but poor advice. I would call one or two to no avail and out of sheer desperation, was known to grab a 20-something customer and hand her the remote and plead “Fix this!”

Well-ell! I vowed this year would be different. While customers come first and service with a smile is a must, I promised me that we would be watching this season’s very first game on our Smart TV as we worked the crowd.

I prepared for the moment by checking out the app on the antique shop TV early in the week. There it was. I nodded to myself, double-checked ESPN, played it for a moment and then told me, “We got this, girl.”

On the morning of the big day, I turned the TV on, went through the proper motions and patted myself on the back when the game actually appeared. Talk about your proud moments!

When they started to play the music for the tunnel walk, I felt chills run down my spine. When the Huskers came out of the tunnel, my eyes welled with tears and then the doggone TV screen turned gray and an error code appeared across it!

Well, let’s just say that it’s a good thing that I’m a good person because I certainly could have let some obscenities fly.

I didn’t get to watch the game, but Pat listened to it in the back of the antique shop and we’re grateful for a good outcome.

I’m nothing if not a positive person, so I plan to spend the week analyzing, revamping and like the Huskers, preparing for the next game.

I’m seriously hoping the team’s preparations will be far more successful than my technical prowess may prove to be.

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