Incompletions and Touchdowns

After spending most of the afternoon prepping for "school," I was ready. I'd ran around Heves to buy football-shaped loaves of bread, I'd cut orange flags out of old bed sheet with Gitta, and I'd invited all of my favorite classes and students to the Green Club's go at American football.

When it was all said and done, the four usual members of the Green Club loved their intro to football.

Attila, Martin, Winnie and Janka sat huddled around the chalk board as I diagrammed quarterback, interception, touchdown and the rest of the prerequisite pigskin lingo. We tucked the foot-long flags into our pockets, and I tossed them the first loaf of bread. I explained the end zones, and said that I would be all-time offense.

By the first play of the game, I realized the rules-explanation had probably been a little short. The most important missed concept: the incompletion. I'd thrown the ball to Winnie, who attempted to catch the ball by shrieking and shrugging her shoulders. As the loaf of bread spun and sputtered on the ground, all four dove on top of it, fighting fiercely for possession. I called the play off, re-explained that a dropped pass is no good, and then proceeded to lead an impressive offensive march down the field that led to the first touchdown ever scored on the Eotvos Jozsef Kozepiskola field.

The game had to be simplified in some ways. First downs, for example, were simply called "the special bonus." But by the final play of the game, the kids were catching on. While Janka's team was losing badly at the end, I said that the game would end in a tie if she scored a touchdown. Janka smiled, snapped the ball by saying "hike!," pump-faked beautifully, and found me streaking into the end zone for the game-tying touchdown!

While I have not yet cleared the plan with her parents or immigration control, I fully intend on bringing ninth-grader Janka home to America as a souvenir, to be my little kid sister for a year and to perfect her English at Fondy High. She's marvelous. Friendly and bubbly and curious and wonderful.

But the best part of the game? When one of the old hags from the office came outside and yelled at us. It was, of course, in Hungarian, and I had no idea what was going on. After she left, the kids were laughing. She said that God was angry at us for playing with food, they explained.