A case of the NIFLs – Rashomon-style
The highlight of the trip for many of us was going to the National Indoor Football League game between the Myrtle Beach Stingrays and the Houma Bayou Bucks. Who won and lost is so immaterial in this discussion, it’s ridiculous. Instead, it was one of the craziest times I’ve had at any sporting event that stunningly had no alcohol involved.

The craziness of the game wasn’t so much what happened on the field. Remember, this is the minor leagues of minor-league football, so the quality of play and the quality of the uniforms are far from top-notch. It was from the mass of people from the tournament (many of whom are on blog list already) all cracking wise throughout the game. Think MST3K at a football game, but with about 15 people firing away.

The field was at the Convention Center where the tournament was. A few of us caught a glimpse of the field and the seats Friday because the door was open to the hall where games are held. The goal posts hanging from the ceiling was bizarre. (Unlike Arena Football, there is no net to the sides of the posts.) And it look very bush league with a set of seats/bleachers on one side of the hall and a smaller seating section on the other side. There were also faux hockey-boards to establish the boundaries of the field, which was a carpet that seemed to be a cross of the Vet’s Astro-Turf and the stuff I had in my kindergarten classroom (only the hopscotch and Chinese checkers were missing). Plus, some of the matches were overlooking the field, and for a while, there were even matches in the ticket office. Yes, one person did show up during a match looking for tickets for NIFL action.

Concessions were strange. There were your basic hot dog, nachos, sodas, ice cream. But there was also a Hurricane bar, as well as a cash buffet – the same one (hopefully not the same food) set up in the afternoon that provided lunch for most of the competitors.

Speaking of tickets, we even got discounts for the game for being part of the tournament, just another added perk. We got seats at the 25-yard line, in the top level of bleachers, which worked well for us, because I think we scared most of the other fans around us who actually took the game seriously. I do wonder what the assistant coach sitting a few rows above us in the next section thought as he was doing his scouting from above.

The game itself was pretty bad. Myrtle Beach didn’t score in the second half and lost by six, which has to be a huge shock in this type of game. Then again, there wasn’t as much passing as you might see at an Arena game. The running plays definitely don’t look as good on the small field, compared to the NFL or major college football. The kicking game was atrocious, and maybe the team did live up to their promise that if a randomly chosen fan hit a 40-yard field goal, he’d be the starting kicker next week. Somewhat related to the game was the atrocious performance of the team song by some “up and coming” rappers wearing Stingrays jerseys (which threw us off when we saw them in the crowd to begin with).

Like Arena Football, fans can keep footballs that go into the stands. That made for some interesting scrambles behind the goal U’s after field goals. Craig and Byko kept running down from our seats to get a chance at a ball. It was comical at first, then got silly because Craig had a couple of good chances but got nothing out of it other than short of breath. However, Chris did get a ball, and he wasn’t even actively looking for it. It just bounced his way while getting some food. Amusingly, the team owner (or so we think) told Chris that they may have to switch out balls with an autographed one after the game if they happened to run out (you wonder if the AFL folks keep that in mind?). It didn’t happen, so we came away happy there.

Things got surreal after halftime as they asked for people to move the chains. We thought this may have been a promotion, but we’re excited enough, so Mike went down to the job. We’re pretty sure it wasn’t a promotion, though, as they also asked for someone to run the down marker. We sent down Byko. It was almost to the point where they could’ve asked a couple more of us play offensive line (we have guys in our group that could’ve done so well). We thought we’d just make fun of the game. I doubt any of us thought we’d actually be in the game.

Still, despite all the fun, it’s hard for a lot of people to realize the ridiculousness of everything. Emily Moore may have put it best as to why she left at halftime: “I could only take so much ironic football.”