Full Court Press
Streak over,
but thank God
for pay-per-viewD O you think they will have a moment of silence before tonight's game?"
It was the last thing I heard my wife say as I dozed lazily on the living room sofa, thinking of putting away John Madden and PlayStation2 to watch the first half of the last Kickoff Classic.
Normally on Hawaii football game day, I'd be pacing around the house in search of pens, passes and PCs. You can never have too many of any on a Saturday night at the yard.
In those days, if I wasn't pacing from room to room looking for at least two tape recorders, four cassettes and eight Double-A batteries, I'd be digging through the kitchen drawer that had everything from long forgotten Taco Bell toys to a pair of pliers I'd been looking for since I moved here a dozen-odd years ago.
Of course, no notebook. At least not one that didn't have my 12-year-old's autograph scribbled across every page. That usually meant a trip to the Kaaawa 7-Eleven for another in a long line of notebooks that had a shelf life of one away or two home games.
But not today. On this Saturday afternoon, a streak of no importance whatsoever would draw to a close without ceremony. I'd later have to fight Mustang Sally's pull toward the H-3 exit and Aloha Stadium waiting at the end of the rainbow. But now, relaxation was upon me.
"What did you say?" I asked.
It was about time to ride into the office for an evening of fun-filled desk duties. Just a fleeting thought, but fighting through the traffic on Salt Lake didn't seem half bad.
"I said, do you think they'll have a moment of silence to mark the end of your consecutive Aloha Stadium streak of UH football games at 95? Or is it your Hula Bowl run or Aloha Bowl string? And does that count the current Pro Bowl streak that could stretch to 13 this January?"
Had some fantasy league walk-in suddenly possessed my wife, the way she rattled off those numbers? But the small grin tweaking the corners of her mouth let me know it was a stiff jab of reality.
"I'm sure everyone's going to notice that you're not sitting next to the clock stoppers at the 50-yard line. Best seat in the house. Ladies and gentlemen will you please rise and take a moment of silence for Paul Arnett."
WHO WOULD SOON BE enjoying the pay-per-view broadcast of watching the game from six different camera angles offered in this futuristic experience. Leave it to my 20-something page designer to slide me into the 21st century, remote control firmly in hand. But this ain't no video game. Six cameras, at the touch of the button. Now, if I could only get that end-zone guy to stop practicing his sideline zooms and become cheerleader cam, we'd be in business.
And how about this, you can replace the TV commentators in the booth with the call of the wild from the field. That's right, you get the roar of the crowd, the sights and sounds of excessive celebration and the sweet shrill of the penalty whistle that will surely follow this UH football team wherever it goes.
"Hey, wake up, you need to get to work. And turn off the PlayStation, will you? That constant crowd roar is unnerving after two hours. And if John Madden says, 'BOOM!,' one more time, I'm lowering one on you."
I reached over, switched off the TV and thought about the night ahead. Perhaps the 1998 season is still better than riding the desk.
"You never answered me, honey. Do you think there will be a moment of silence?"
I thought I knew the answer as I said good-bye and climbed behind the wheel of our '65 Mustang. But thanks to pay-per-view, by night's end, I would no longer care.
Paul Arnett has been covering sports
for the Star-Bulletin since 1990.
Email Paul: parnett@starbulletin.com.