I have experienced the parent conference. And it really was nowhere near as bad as I thought it would be.
For four hours I have seen a series of parents, grandmothers, brothers and sisters. Out of 120 students, I gave out 30 Fs and not one A. I have enjoyed handing the parents the bad report cards almost as much as the good ones. There are so many kids in my classes who need a huge kick up the arse; I’m really hoping a card of circled Fs might do the trick. A good example is Deyonta. The degree of laziness and insolence he reaches in class is mind boggling (unfortunately he is not alone). He doesn't bother to take out his notebook; he fails to read anything let alone finish assignment and has never participated in whole group or small group discussions. He might as well not be there. His father came in today and after taking in the plethora of Fs informed me that in 5th grade Deyonta had been classed as gifted. Well BULL SHIT.
On a happier note, I also had a parent began to cry when she saw her son's good report card.
Her son, Dasaahn, is a very interesting child. In class, he will work hard, but the minute he doesn't understand something, or something goes slightly wrong he will seriously lose it.
He has screamed in my face "I don't get it?” "I can't do it" "You are not making any sense", " I haven't finished"
He has thrown his work on the floor. He has stormed out of the room.
Every time he does this he comes to me the next day and apologizes. One day I asked him privately about his temper and without missing a beat he answered, "Oh I think I'm bipolar."
What do you say to that? He's 13. Maybe there's something in the genes.
One more day until I get to go home and spend some time with my beautiful family.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Monday, December 18, 2006
No voice no power
I took my second day off last Friday. I did feel slightly ill, but really I just wanted a day off. I'm calling tghem mental health days. Sods law is that now I;m really ill and have to go to work. Today I pretty much lost my voice. Not good when your trying to control 36 kids. But. the kids seemed really concerned "Ms. Lloyd are you sick?" "Ms. Lloyd I'm going to buy you some medicine.", "Ms. lloyd, I'll get you a get well soon card."
Unfortunately not a lot of work was done. But that is always the case.
I learned today that my classes will be reduced from 41 to 35. I'm scared that I have been leaning on the fact things are so bad because the classes are so big. If the class becomes smaller and it is still bad, then what is the reason????? Me?
Unfortunately not a lot of work was done. But that is always the case.
I learned today that my classes will be reduced from 41 to 35. I'm scared that I have been leaning on the fact things are so bad because the classes are so big. If the class becomes smaller and it is still bad, then what is the reason????? Me?
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Bad blogger
Over the past few months I have pushed myself further than ever before. It is pretty obvious that up before September 7th 2006 my life was ridiculously easy. Little stress, worry, responsibility. Things have changed. I became a teacher. Eighth grade English, 120 students in three classes, 85% reading below grade level. A challenge in anyone’s book, but added to that is the fact I had, and still have, no idea what I am doing.
I have failed to write down any of the numerous stories of craziness and trauma that I have struggled through in the past three months, but I am hoping to change that. I feel it is incredibly important for me to record what I am going through every day to both help me improve in the short term and reminisce in the long term. Right now I am terrible. The class is completely out of control and I feel learning does not happen. I face kids who seem to just not want/care if they learn to read. Read. I face others who are plain crazy. I face disrespect. I face some complete sweethearts who really try. I will write about them all and my responses as honestly as I possibly can.
I have failed to write down any of the numerous stories of craziness and trauma that I have struggled through in the past three months, but I am hoping to change that. I feel it is incredibly important for me to record what I am going through every day to both help me improve in the short term and reminisce in the long term. Right now I am terrible. The class is completely out of control and I feel learning does not happen. I face kids who seem to just not want/care if they learn to read. Read. I face others who are plain crazy. I face disrespect. I face some complete sweethearts who really try. I will write about them all and my responses as honestly as I possibly can.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
It's natural to be terrified...right?
In 30 days I will have completed my first real day of teaching. 120 students will have come in the door, sat in the seats, made judgments about me, and filed out again. I'm a little scared.
My practice teaching ended on Friday and I have three more days of training. It was called practice teaching, but its worthiness is debatable. We taught, but to eight kids in one of the best schools in Philly. Not exactly what I'm going to face in ONE MONTHS time.
Two fellows were placed in a classroom with the cooperating teacher (CT). Our CT, Ms. Finkel or The Fink as she became known, was a 50ish year old veteran special Ed teacher. She was exactly the teacher I do not want to be.
Here's a quick list of her misdemeanors:
1. She constantly humiliated the kids in front of class. Her choice of humiliation was usually calling their parents in the middle of class. For me, this is completely unacceptable. But this was her only form of management, so a week into summer school the calling lost any power it may have had and became a constant nuisance.
2.She gave us absolutely no feedback on our teaching, but was heard bitching about the fellows program and us personally to other teachers.
3. She made her terrible opinions known to all. A class on immigration was a great example. In Philly recently a scandal broke out when Geno of the famous Geno's stakes posted a "speak English only" sign in his restaurant. Ms. Finkel used this as a jumping off point to launch into a tirade about how everyone in America should speak English and how when she went to Florida she thinks it’s unacceptable to be surrounded by Spanish speakers. There was a Hispanic girl and a boy from Puerto Rico in the class.
4. She pronounced water "wooder". (This is a Philly thing but coming from her it was grating.)
5. She constantly moved the class from room to room because SHE was too hot.
6. She was unable to listen to anyone without cutting him or her off and inserting some completely irrelevant fact about her life.
7. She called one student "crazy" to his face and constantly repeated how she deserved a medal for putting up with him.
The list can go on and on, but I feel so much better for getting all that out! So happy I will never work with the fink again.
Apart from that joy, training has been great. The people on my course are seriously fantastic. I'm coming around to thinking the training doesn't really prepare you for what is about to happen, but it does give you a huge network of like-minded friends that are all in the same boat.
Love you all
Listening to: a clicking fan
Thinking: water doesn't have any o's or d's damn it.
Feeling: annoyed the fink bothered me so much.
P.S. Ooo, I drove in the city for the first time today. No crashes, sideswipes or freak-outs. I feel very proud!
My practice teaching ended on Friday and I have three more days of training. It was called practice teaching, but its worthiness is debatable. We taught, but to eight kids in one of the best schools in Philly. Not exactly what I'm going to face in ONE MONTHS time.
Two fellows were placed in a classroom with the cooperating teacher (CT). Our CT, Ms. Finkel or The Fink as she became known, was a 50ish year old veteran special Ed teacher. She was exactly the teacher I do not want to be.
Here's a quick list of her misdemeanors:
1. She constantly humiliated the kids in front of class. Her choice of humiliation was usually calling their parents in the middle of class. For me, this is completely unacceptable. But this was her only form of management, so a week into summer school the calling lost any power it may have had and became a constant nuisance.
2.She gave us absolutely no feedback on our teaching, but was heard bitching about the fellows program and us personally to other teachers.
3. She made her terrible opinions known to all. A class on immigration was a great example. In Philly recently a scandal broke out when Geno of the famous Geno's stakes posted a "speak English only" sign in his restaurant. Ms. Finkel used this as a jumping off point to launch into a tirade about how everyone in America should speak English and how when she went to Florida she thinks it’s unacceptable to be surrounded by Spanish speakers. There was a Hispanic girl and a boy from Puerto Rico in the class.
4. She pronounced water "wooder". (This is a Philly thing but coming from her it was grating.)
5. She constantly moved the class from room to room because SHE was too hot.
6. She was unable to listen to anyone without cutting him or her off and inserting some completely irrelevant fact about her life.
7. She called one student "crazy" to his face and constantly repeated how she deserved a medal for putting up with him.
The list can go on and on, but I feel so much better for getting all that out! So happy I will never work with the fink again.
Apart from that joy, training has been great. The people on my course are seriously fantastic. I'm coming around to thinking the training doesn't really prepare you for what is about to happen, but it does give you a huge network of like-minded friends that are all in the same boat.
Love you all
Listening to: a clicking fan
Thinking: water doesn't have any o's or d's damn it.
Feeling: annoyed the fink bothered me so much.
P.S. Ooo, I drove in the city for the first time today. No crashes, sideswipes or freak-outs. I feel very proud!
Sunday, July 09, 2006
And it begins
My journey towards teaching has begun. I have successfully completed three days of training. Icebreakers are over, the role-plays have started and my nerves are not going away. I still feel equally terrified and excited about the whole thing. My fellow fellows are great so far – I am in a group of 20 people from all walks of life; a university lecturer, a wannabe MTV VJ, a policeman, a food cart owner to name a few. I suppose I feel a little out of my depth right now, which is natural as I have only four weeks to learn the basics of teaching.
I have also not secured a placement yet. Two interviews down and two nos. Obviously this is only the beginning, but I can’t help feeling I would feel so much better if I had a job sorted out. I will have a teaching position in September, that is guaranteed, I would just much rather choose it than be given it. But it is still very early days. Watch this space.
Changing the subject completely. I have an only in America moment. On Friday night while innocently chowing down a “Carne Enchilada”, I saw a sight I hope I had to share. A van drove past advertising its owners “blood and blood component “ cleaning business.
I am living in a city where someone was watching the umpteenth report of a Philly murder on the local news and had a revelation – starting a cleaning business specifically for blood. The blood I can just about handle, but blood components – the mind comes up with some pretty Tarantinoesque
I have also not secured a placement yet. Two interviews down and two nos. Obviously this is only the beginning, but I can’t help feeling I would feel so much better if I had a job sorted out. I will have a teaching position in September, that is guaranteed, I would just much rather choose it than be given it. But it is still very early days. Watch this space.
Changing the subject completely. I have an only in America moment. On Friday night while innocently chowing down a “Carne Enchilada”, I saw a sight I hope I had to share. A van drove past advertising its owners “blood and blood component “ cleaning business.
I am living in a city where someone was watching the umpteenth report of a Philly murder on the local news and had a revelation – starting a cleaning business specifically for blood. The blood I can just about handle, but blood components – the mind comes up with some pretty Tarantinoesque
Monday, March 27, 2006
Yo, teach!
This week has been a life-changing week for me -how dramatic is that. It has involved nerves, waiting, talking to myself, email checking, postman harassing, waiting, and waiting. Months ago – because I’m so lax at updating this – I mentioned I had decided to try my hand at teaching. After much research I knew I had 2 choices: firstly, was the traditional grad school route where I would earn a masters and certification in around 10 months at either Penn or Temple (2 Unis in Philly), and secondly, an alternative program call the Philadelphia Teaching Fellows, which gives you 5-6 weeks of intensive training in the summer and places you in a full time teaching position in September with full pay. Which would you pick? I applied for both.
In the beginning I was Penn all the way until I went to an open day and discovered the fees had gone up to a huge $43,000 for 10 months. The minute they let that slip I think everyone mentally crossed Penn off. How can they charge that much? Doctors and lawyers I can understand, but teachers. I wouldn’t make that much in a year.
The choices were down to Temple (at a much more respectable $12,000) and the Teaching Fellows.
I had been umming and ahhing about the Teaching Fellows and finally decided to apply one drunken night. Grad school was the way I was going, but things started to change when I went along to a Fellows information session. I learnt that it’s a program run by Philly’s school district and basically recruits new graduates or professional people to work in “high needs’ schools in Philly. “High needs” is code for the lowest performing, poorest, blackest schools in the city; the one I tutor in is a high needs school. The idea being that the secret to improving the schools is to put better teachers in them. While teaching, the “fellows” would attend a grad school at a reduced rate and earn their masters and certification – with up to 3 years to finish.
The other attendees were a motley crew – young uns like me, people who looked stereotypically teachery, the occasional power suit, and a few older folks. The staff was extremely enthusiastic and it was infectious - I quickly started warming to the idea. The pros: you get paid, you are ensured a job, you get the masters, and you are actually teaching and not talking about it. The cons: you get thrown into a classroom with minimal training, and the classrooms are some of the worst in Philly. Big cons. I left feeling very happy about my drunken decision and really wanting an interview. They told us out of the 1000 applicants they were expecting they would interview around 500 and choose 80 – 100 to become fellows.
So I waited. They would let me know within two weeks if I had an interview. Two weeks went by. I was so upset. I hadn’t given this thing any thought a few weeks ago and now I was gutted I hadn’t got an interview. So I pinned my hopes on Temple. Then an email arrived, “Congratulations you have been invited to attend an interview day for the Philadelphia Teaching Fellows”. Huh. Holy shit. I got an interview. Oh my God. I quickly signed up for the only day they had left – 5 days away.
The interview was 4 hour long. I arrived at the brand new Philadelphia School District building, signed in, and join the other interviewees in a tension stuffed waiting room. There were maybe 50 people there, men women, young, old, but everyone with a slight look of terror in their faces. I tried to eat some of the free energy bars and chatted to the girl next to me for a painful ten minutes. Finally we were split up into groups of twelve. First hurdle was a five-minute teaching sample for any subject or any grade (the cause of much of the terror). I had planned a five-minute introduction to haiku poetry – those tiny 17-syllable Japanese poems. I shook and croaked my way through; asking them about syllables -“how many syllables in “cat”? How many syllables in “catapult”? talking about the origins, going through an example, making them close there eyes and describe the image the words made in their heads. I thought it went really well. Especially as so many other people just lectured and didn’t ask any questions,
Then came a group discussion. Thirty minutes of disjointed hypothetical chat, and I was amazed but some people didn’t speak. Hello - you’re in an interview! That was followed by a writing sample, and finally the day ended with a thirty minute one on one interview. My interviewer had grandparents in Dorset so that killed a few minutes, and then I was fired questions such as: what would you do if you had no textbooks on your first day/ first few months; when was the last time you failed at something – God bless algebra; what would you do if you didn’t get into the fellows; how do you think your teaching sample went; what did you think of everyone else’s teaching samples? And on and on.
They would be in touch within two weeks. Now I really wanted it. It just made sense. Yes it would be terrifying, going into a school with 6 weeks of training and into a challenging school. But I would be teaching, really teaching. By September. And if I absolutely hated it I could leave and try something else, without having paid $43,000 for the training.
Waiting is excruciatingly painful. Days ticked by with me checking my email every ten minutes. Nothing. Then after 13 days of pain I had an answer. I had been selected. I think the noise I made was “Arghug”, and then the tears came. I had been selected. In five months I will be standing in front of my own class.
Now, a few days later, I feel great –I am so happy and only slightly terrified. My acceptance letter was posted today; I am officially a Summer 2006 Philadelphia Teaching Fellow. I told you it has been a life-changing week. I know it’s going to be exhausting, wonderful, emotional, scary, frightening, soul-breaking, sickening, and rewarding. I have been dying for a challenge, waiting for my life to begin properly over here, and now its finally happening. Wish me luck, I have a feeling I will need it.
www.philadelphiateachingfellows.org
In the beginning I was Penn all the way until I went to an open day and discovered the fees had gone up to a huge $43,000 for 10 months. The minute they let that slip I think everyone mentally crossed Penn off. How can they charge that much? Doctors and lawyers I can understand, but teachers. I wouldn’t make that much in a year.
The choices were down to Temple (at a much more respectable $12,000) and the Teaching Fellows.
I had been umming and ahhing about the Teaching Fellows and finally decided to apply one drunken night. Grad school was the way I was going, but things started to change when I went along to a Fellows information session. I learnt that it’s a program run by Philly’s school district and basically recruits new graduates or professional people to work in “high needs’ schools in Philly. “High needs” is code for the lowest performing, poorest, blackest schools in the city; the one I tutor in is a high needs school. The idea being that the secret to improving the schools is to put better teachers in them. While teaching, the “fellows” would attend a grad school at a reduced rate and earn their masters and certification – with up to 3 years to finish.
The other attendees were a motley crew – young uns like me, people who looked stereotypically teachery, the occasional power suit, and a few older folks. The staff was extremely enthusiastic and it was infectious - I quickly started warming to the idea. The pros: you get paid, you are ensured a job, you get the masters, and you are actually teaching and not talking about it. The cons: you get thrown into a classroom with minimal training, and the classrooms are some of the worst in Philly. Big cons. I left feeling very happy about my drunken decision and really wanting an interview. They told us out of the 1000 applicants they were expecting they would interview around 500 and choose 80 – 100 to become fellows.
So I waited. They would let me know within two weeks if I had an interview. Two weeks went by. I was so upset. I hadn’t given this thing any thought a few weeks ago and now I was gutted I hadn’t got an interview. So I pinned my hopes on Temple. Then an email arrived, “Congratulations you have been invited to attend an interview day for the Philadelphia Teaching Fellows”. Huh. Holy shit. I got an interview. Oh my God. I quickly signed up for the only day they had left – 5 days away.
The interview was 4 hour long. I arrived at the brand new Philadelphia School District building, signed in, and join the other interviewees in a tension stuffed waiting room. There were maybe 50 people there, men women, young, old, but everyone with a slight look of terror in their faces. I tried to eat some of the free energy bars and chatted to the girl next to me for a painful ten minutes. Finally we were split up into groups of twelve. First hurdle was a five-minute teaching sample for any subject or any grade (the cause of much of the terror). I had planned a five-minute introduction to haiku poetry – those tiny 17-syllable Japanese poems. I shook and croaked my way through; asking them about syllables -“how many syllables in “cat”? How many syllables in “catapult”? talking about the origins, going through an example, making them close there eyes and describe the image the words made in their heads. I thought it went really well. Especially as so many other people just lectured and didn’t ask any questions,
Then came a group discussion. Thirty minutes of disjointed hypothetical chat, and I was amazed but some people didn’t speak. Hello - you’re in an interview! That was followed by a writing sample, and finally the day ended with a thirty minute one on one interview. My interviewer had grandparents in Dorset so that killed a few minutes, and then I was fired questions such as: what would you do if you had no textbooks on your first day/ first few months; when was the last time you failed at something – God bless algebra; what would you do if you didn’t get into the fellows; how do you think your teaching sample went; what did you think of everyone else’s teaching samples? And on and on.
They would be in touch within two weeks. Now I really wanted it. It just made sense. Yes it would be terrifying, going into a school with 6 weeks of training and into a challenging school. But I would be teaching, really teaching. By September. And if I absolutely hated it I could leave and try something else, without having paid $43,000 for the training.
Waiting is excruciatingly painful. Days ticked by with me checking my email every ten minutes. Nothing. Then after 13 days of pain I had an answer. I had been selected. I think the noise I made was “Arghug”, and then the tears came. I had been selected. In five months I will be standing in front of my own class.
Now, a few days later, I feel great –I am so happy and only slightly terrified. My acceptance letter was posted today; I am officially a Summer 2006 Philadelphia Teaching Fellow. I told you it has been a life-changing week. I know it’s going to be exhausting, wonderful, emotional, scary, frightening, soul-breaking, sickening, and rewarding. I have been dying for a challenge, waiting for my life to begin properly over here, and now its finally happening. Wish me luck, I have a feeling I will need it.
www.philadelphiateachingfellows.org
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Let it snow let it snow let it snow
I woke up this morning and there were 18 inches of snow on the ground. 18 INCHES. Six in the UK is more than enough to cause traffic chaos and days off for everyone. And it’s the cool powdery, perfect-snowball type snow - not any wet, sludgy pretender snow. I have felt like a child all day, it’s impossible to fight that urge to try to throw a hard ball of snow into someone’s face or get it down the back of their clothes. And you have to make a snowman. Frosty is now proudly standing guard in our back garden, complete with half limes for eyes and beer cans for buttons – but now it’s dark I keep scaring myself thinking someone is standing out there. But, I’m guessing tomorrow, when I actually have to leave the house, the snow isn’t going to be that much fun.
Tomorrow morning I get the results of my second math test in 7 years. I am taking two maths courses, algebra and statistics at a community college (to qualify to teach in Philly you have to have two Uni maths courses). Last week I took an algebra test and I failed. A serious wake up call – I was thinking that it would be easy. I don't fail!!!!!!! Luckily statistics seems to be easier. My teacher is a man called Dr. Bumble, he’s at least 92 and totally lives up to his name. For the first 10 minutes of every class he tells us about all the companies he worked for in the 1960s – his apparent heyday and how to succeed in getting a job.
The whole thing has reminded me of how much I hate maths. There is a switch in my head that turns off the intelligence when I look at an equation. Alongside this I'm taking the Graduate Exam (GRE) in a couple of weeks that comes complete with a juicy maths section. Has the world gone mad!!! The humanities are just so much kinder - you can say whatever you want and as long as you do it in legible English your going to pass.
OK, it's so cold upstairs that I can't feel my toes. Love you all.
Listening to: Kanye West rage
Thinking: how the hell do you work out if 15 men and 12 women are in a room and an equal number of men and women enter the ratio becomes 7:6. How many women have entered the room?
Tomorrow morning I get the results of my second math test in 7 years. I am taking two maths courses, algebra and statistics at a community college (to qualify to teach in Philly you have to have two Uni maths courses). Last week I took an algebra test and I failed. A serious wake up call – I was thinking that it would be easy. I don't fail!!!!!!! Luckily statistics seems to be easier. My teacher is a man called Dr. Bumble, he’s at least 92 and totally lives up to his name. For the first 10 minutes of every class he tells us about all the companies he worked for in the 1960s – his apparent heyday and how to succeed in getting a job.
The whole thing has reminded me of how much I hate maths. There is a switch in my head that turns off the intelligence when I look at an equation. Alongside this I'm taking the Graduate Exam (GRE) in a couple of weeks that comes complete with a juicy maths section. Has the world gone mad!!! The humanities are just so much kinder - you can say whatever you want and as long as you do it in legible English your going to pass.
OK, it's so cold upstairs that I can't feel my toes. Love you all.
Listening to: Kanye West rage
Thinking: how the hell do you work out if 15 men and 12 women are in a room and an equal number of men and women enter the ratio becomes 7:6. How many women have entered the room?
Monday, February 06, 2006
Padding, wings, and puffs
The Super Bowl – the biggest sports event in the world. Right? 211 million people are expected to watch it so it’s got to be good...right? I hate to say it but I’m excited about seeing this thing. I have got into American football so there is a slight interest in the sport but it’s the hype, wardrobe malfunctions, glitz and advertisements I’m really looking forward to. I have my cold beer, cheesy puffs open and wings are in the fridge. I’m ready.
It has just opened with Stevie Wonder, joined by his family (including young child on drums) John Legend, Joss Stone and India Erie. Stevie Wonder is FANTASTIC but why is he there? And Joss Stone…how, why?
Classic commenter comment no. 1: “Motown is ready for some football” – yeah baby! John Motson just wouldn’t say this stuff.
This year it’s in the Detroit superdome, just like the now infamous one in New Orleans. It’s a climate-controlled, fake-grassed wonderland where the Pittsburgh Steelers are about to play the Seattle Seahawks. United, Rovers and even Wednesday just can’t compete with names like that - especially when compared to my personal favorites, the Pennsylvania Quakers, the St Louis Billikins, the North Carolina Tar Heels – what is their mascot, a big boot? My super bowl prediction: Seahawks 34 Steelers 28.
American football seems to be rugby with extra padding. Both teams have a defensive team and an offensive team (pronounced De-fence and Off-fence). So there are around 40 people on a team. One offense starts with the ball and tries to get it down the field to score a touchdown, the opposite teams defense tries to stop them. Then they switch. Each team also has a kicker whose job is to kick off and score field goals– he doesn’t do anything else. Why one of the umpteen defense or offense can’t kick is known only to the American football Gods.
Classic commenter comment no. 2: “Well what do you know a game is about to break out.” – genius.
We’re off. 10 minutes in and Bud Light is dominating the ads, the game is scoreless. The players introduce themselves on this talking head type graphic and football players just aren’t very pretty. But some of the arses are wonderful – beautifully cocooned in their tight tight trousers.
Seahawks have scored a field goal and half of the wings have gone. I’m feeling a little sick and unimpressed with the game so far. 1st quarter over.
2nd quarter. Someone just got injured.
Classic commentator comment no 3: “You don’t know if that’s an ankle a head or something in between.”
Bud is still winning the advert competition. To have a 30 second ad in the super bowl it costs 5 or 6 million dollars. Companies will start a new campaign with their super bowl advert so I’m hoping for good things because so far the ads over here have been terrible. There are more adverts for prescription medicine than anything else. Everyone’s a doctor over here. You get looked down on if you ask for an aspirin and don’t specify which brand.
Half time. No boobs just a 63 year old gyrating with no satisfaction.
It’s now the forth quarter and I have lost interest in the Super Bowl. Pittsburgh is winning 21 – 10 and I have reorganized my wardrobe and the furniture in our bedroom, read some of the paper, done the washing, and drank some more beer. 4 hours is just too long for a game, except Monopoly of course.
My first Super Bowl has just finished and Pittsburgh won 21 –10. I wonder how many of the 211 million made it to the end? Roll on the World Cup.
It has just opened with Stevie Wonder, joined by his family (including young child on drums) John Legend, Joss Stone and India Erie. Stevie Wonder is FANTASTIC but why is he there? And Joss Stone…how, why?
Classic commenter comment no. 1: “Motown is ready for some football” – yeah baby! John Motson just wouldn’t say this stuff.
This year it’s in the Detroit superdome, just like the now infamous one in New Orleans. It’s a climate-controlled, fake-grassed wonderland where the Pittsburgh Steelers are about to play the Seattle Seahawks. United, Rovers and even Wednesday just can’t compete with names like that - especially when compared to my personal favorites, the Pennsylvania Quakers, the St Louis Billikins, the North Carolina Tar Heels – what is their mascot, a big boot? My super bowl prediction: Seahawks 34 Steelers 28.
American football seems to be rugby with extra padding. Both teams have a defensive team and an offensive team (pronounced De-fence and Off-fence). So there are around 40 people on a team. One offense starts with the ball and tries to get it down the field to score a touchdown, the opposite teams defense tries to stop them. Then they switch. Each team also has a kicker whose job is to kick off and score field goals– he doesn’t do anything else. Why one of the umpteen defense or offense can’t kick is known only to the American football Gods.
Classic commenter comment no. 2: “Well what do you know a game is about to break out.” – genius.
We’re off. 10 minutes in and Bud Light is dominating the ads, the game is scoreless. The players introduce themselves on this talking head type graphic and football players just aren’t very pretty. But some of the arses are wonderful – beautifully cocooned in their tight tight trousers.
Seahawks have scored a field goal and half of the wings have gone. I’m feeling a little sick and unimpressed with the game so far. 1st quarter over.
2nd quarter. Someone just got injured.
Classic commentator comment no 3: “You don’t know if that’s an ankle a head or something in between.”
Bud is still winning the advert competition. To have a 30 second ad in the super bowl it costs 5 or 6 million dollars. Companies will start a new campaign with their super bowl advert so I’m hoping for good things because so far the ads over here have been terrible. There are more adverts for prescription medicine than anything else. Everyone’s a doctor over here. You get looked down on if you ask for an aspirin and don’t specify which brand.
Half time. No boobs just a 63 year old gyrating with no satisfaction.
It’s now the forth quarter and I have lost interest in the Super Bowl. Pittsburgh is winning 21 – 10 and I have reorganized my wardrobe and the furniture in our bedroom, read some of the paper, done the washing, and drank some more beer. 4 hours is just too long for a game, except Monopoly of course.
My first Super Bowl has just finished and Pittsburgh won 21 –10. I wonder how many of the 211 million made it to the end? Roll on the World Cup.
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