Cooking in the West

As a mother of both a son and daughter who loved sports, I can honestly say I don't think there is anything that tests the bonds of motherhood more than high school football! It has been beautiful weather for the boys of fall this year, but there is one game that many Big Timber Herder fans will never forget. It was a game that tested my mental and physical endurance as a mother, and it took place when our son Bret was a junior in high school.

While looking through his scrapbook (which in truth is just an unorganized plastic tub) I read that the Bozeman Chronicle reported the game that pitted the Big Timber Herders against the Manhattan Tigers was "a game to tell the grandchildren about." Indeed it was, because those of us who witnessed it have a story that will top any "walking five miles to school uphill both ways" story. I will be able to tell my grandchildren how I almost died from complications of watching their father play football.

Rain had fallen intermittently all day, but a torrential rain began about 4:00 P.M., so the field was pretty much a lake with a few islands of muddy turf by kick-off time. Football games never get called off, except at communities where athletic directors fear that injury or drowning or nasty colds at the very least could befall the fans. Of course, no one worries about the players except their mothers. In fact, immediately I noticed that my son was "warming up" (which is an oxymoron under such conditions) without the bottoms of his UnderArmour on, nor was he wearing any gloves. Since he started playing football in fifth grade, we have bought him many sets of expensive football long johns and gloves, and now here he was in the worst game conditions he ever experienced, and he was parading around like it was the Hula Bowl. His hands didn't regain feeling until after midnight that night, but then again neither did mine, which were encased in soaked gloves.

The bank thermometer read 31 degrees, but it must have been warmer because there was more rain than snow falling. A stiff east wind was blowing in our face, but three of us huddled under a one-person umbrella on the top row of the grandstands. Rain began cascading off the top of the grandstands creating a waterfall that soaked our blanket.

Manhattan's players all belly-flopped in the mud puddle that was the field following their introductions. Fortunately, this produced first-half hypothermia, and we were able to jump to a 12-point lead. Unfortunately, at half-time their coaching staff must have thawed their players out, because they came back to score 13 unanswered points to win.

By half-time I could not feel my fingers or my left leg, which was the leg that didn't fit under the umbrella. My father-in-law had a numb right leg, because he was sitting on the other side of the umbrella. My mother-in-law probably had the best seat in the house, although her gloves were frozen to the umbrella. We thought about going to get coffee, but our joints were too stiff, and because of the stage of hypothermia we were experiencing, we were paranoid that some of the other 20 totally insane people in the grandstands might take our seats.

All football mothers hold their breath when their son is lying at the bottom of a dogpile under good field conditions. That night was not a good night to be a running back's mother. Every time he slipped, I feared he had torn all his ligaments. I tried to dig out our insurance card to be prepared for a trip to the emergency room, but I discovered I had no fine motor skills. Every time he was tackled, I feared he might drown before they let him up. At 154 pounds, he was at least 50 pounds lighter than the average player out there. In fact, he is so skinny that after several summers of swimming lessons, his instructor suggested that he was so non-buoyant that if he ever fell overboard, he would be better off to sink to the bottom and run to shore.

To make a long story short, we lost, we caught dreadful colds, and we almost died - laughing. It was on that chilly night that I first heard the ultimate Montana State Bobcats vs. University of Montana Grizzlies joke. (So with SINCERE apologies to all Griz fans, here goes): A teacher in Missoula asked her class how many of them were Grizzly fans. All the students except one raised their hands. The little girl who did not raise her hand said that her parents were both Bobcats, so she was too. The teacher said, "That's no reason. If your mom and dad were both morons, what would you be then?"

"I'd be a Grizzly!" the little girl replied.

This week, I'd like to share some great ideas for tailgate parties, which is the best thing about football in my opinion!

Seven Layer Mexican Dip

1 lg. can refried beans

1 tub guacamole dip

16 oz. sour cream

1 pkg. taco seasoning

1 lg. tomato, diced

4 green onions, chopped

1 can sliced black olives

1 C. grated cheddar cheese

Frost a large platter with refried beans; top with guacamole. Mix sour cream and seasoning and spread this layer on top of the other two. Sprinkle chopped onions, tomato, black olives, and cheese over all. Serve with tortilla chips.

Hot Chili Dip

1 lb. ground beef

1 lb. Velveeta, cubed

1 can diced tomatoes with green peppers

1 can green chilies

garlic, onion, and chili powders to taste

2 T. sour cream (optional)

Brown beef and drain; combine with all other ingredients in a crockpot. Cook on high at least one hour, stirring often. Great with chips or crackers. (You may substitute canned chili for the burger.)

Hot Artichoke Dip

2 cans artichokes, drained and chopped (not marinated)

1 C. mayonnaise

1 C. grated Parmesan cheese

Chop drained artichokes. Mix with mayonnaise and cheese. Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes or until bubbly and lightly browned. Serve on crackers. (A variation of this dip can be made by substituting 12 oz. of softened cream cheese and 1/4 C. softened butter for the 1 C. of mayonnaise. You can also add some frozen chopped spinach that has been thawed if you want it to be spinach artichoke dip).