Only for the Head Strong
Matt Walsh
Saturday March 10, 2001
So as the new season approaches, I’d like to take this opportunity to share a little story with you. This anecdote is for all Arenaball fans but in particular, the new fans of the league who will be sitting within the first ten rows of the Indoor War this season.
For this true story I take you back to summer of 1995, where my girlfriend (now wife) Jennifer and I are sitting in the Pyramid arena in Memphis watching the Memphis Pharaohs take on Kurt Warner and the Iowa Barnstormers in the last regular season game. Both teams were already in the playoffs but were vying for a higher seed.
We had great seats, which were on the front row at the goal line. While we sauntered down the steps to our seats I did my best Bob Uecker “going to the front row” impersonation. As we sat down I noticed that Jennifer had a worried look on her face. She was nervous about sitting so close to the action on the field. Perhaps she had a premonition.
I was excited about the location. I knew I loved the seats the first time a player slammed up against and rattled the sideboard in front of us.
Everything was going along smoothly -- until the third quarter. The Pharaohs had the ball and were headed towards our side of the field. I remember looking over at Jennifer, who was digging in her purse and not paying attention to the game.
All of a sudden, a flash that I saw at the corner of my eye startled me. It was a Pharaoh receiver running a sideline pattern right past our seats. Instead of lobbing the pass to the receiver in the end zone, the quarterback, Troy Kopp, gunned the ball like a shortstop throwing to first base. The pass went behind the receiver and headed like a rocket directly toward our seats.
I stood up and extended my arms out to catch the pass but I flinched at the last second. I heard a thud and the football landed at my feet. I quickly reached down and scooped up the ball because I had been to enough Arena Football games to know that a mad scramble usually ensues after a ball is thrown into the stands. I greedily covered the ball with both arms until I knew the coast was clear.
I was about ready to act a fool and show off my new, pigskin trophy to the world when I looked over and noticed Jennifer leaning low in her seat with a dazed look on her face.
“What’s a matter?” I asked, not realizing that the ball I was holding had smashed into her head. I leaned down to console her. The incident must have looked painful enough that the receiver who had run the pattern in front of us came over to see if she was OK. Jennifer also got visits from a concerned ball boy and usher.
All the fans sitting around us were supportive. Somebody from three rows up handed back to us the hat Jennifer was wearing before the impact.
An old guy sitting behind me tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Nice catch.”
Fortunately, Jennifer was fine. No double vision, memory loss or even a bruise to worry about, which is astonishing considering the velocity of the pass. And footballs aren’t exactly soft, either.
Of course, I gave her the ball to keep.
She was a good sport about the whole incident and we both learned a very valuable lesson that night, which is also the moral of this story:
If you’re sitting within the first ten rows of an Arena Football game, pay close attention to the action on the field. You never know when an errant pass (or player for that matter) will make its way into the stands. And guys, do a better job of protecting your women than I did.
Jennifer and I still talk about “The Hit” now and then. After the Rams beat the Titans in the Super Bowl 34, I told her that it would have been cool if Kurt Warner had thrown the football that beaned her in the head. She didn’t find that very amusing.
The football, by the way, still sits proudly on a shelf in our bedroom.
Matt Walsh was a writer for ArenaFan Online from 2000 to 2001.
