"When Schoettgen scored, the Bearcats had just eight rushing yards on seven carries. Adjustments in blocking assignment and timing helped WU enter the locker room at halftime with 121 yards on the ground, including 107 on seven carries by Horne. Leslie ended the half 7 of 12 passing for 154 yards and two touchdowns."
I don't know what the terms "rushing yard," a "carry," a "blocking assignment," or "yards on the ground" mean. Consequently, the above paragraph, from an article about The Lovely Daughter's college football team's success in its first playoff game yesterday is, like the rest of the piece, virtually unintelligible to me. (I do know what Willamette bearcats are, since we all have t-shirts depicting them. And I know that they won, because I can read the score. That's about the extent of my personal football IQ.)
It's my own fault, of course. Football has never been of much interest to me. The Quiet Husband and Gregarious Son are at a pro game as I write, but I wouldn't have wanted to go even if I hadn't been as miserably sick with some kind of virus as I am. To me, football is a bunch of (usually) guys running back and forth and back and forth in a decades-long pursuit of an odd-shaped ball with an enthusiasm that utterly mystifies me. To tell the truth, most of the time the location of the ball in play is also a (complete) mystery to me, which might explain the speed with which I relapse into stultified boredom as soon as I settle into the stands at a game. The Lovely Daughter had a lot more fun at that playoff yesterday than I would have.
And why am I writing about this? I think it's because I'm trying to figure out how to reclaim my life, and the language and context have changed. Whatever a rushing yard and a locker room might have been for me three months ago, they aren't anymore. I read the article on the game and I thought, "Oh, this is just like my life. Completely incomprehensible."
So. I'm going to go back to school in another week or so. I think it might be easier to make an adjustment in a blocking assignment.
Whatever that means.