CHEX SNACK MIX AND THE HEARTBREAK OF FOOTBALL

It’s been said that it’s better to have loved and lost than never having loved at all.

If you’re a football fan and you’ve just seen your team eliminated in the playoffs, right now you might think otherwise.

It took me fifty years to really watch a football game; for most of my life, I’ve been oblivious–if not scornful– of the sport. I didn’t get it, and it just looked like a lot of lunks bonking heads and being paid outrageous sums for near criminal aggression.

And then Oliver told me last year he wanted to play the game.

It was the last year he could play in a Catholic Youth Organization league, and with a lot of trepidation, we let him play on a football team.

After our team had nearly a dozen injuries (and Oliver was on concussion watch for a bad hit), I said enough.

By then it was mercilessly the end of the season, and I told him there was no chance I’d let him do it again — especially since he’d be next playing high school football and it’s that much more dangerous.

We followed the Seahawks the rest of last season, and then there was the heartbreaking loss at the Superbowl.

I thought football and my family were done.

Come September Oliver tried once again to bring up the subject of playing football, but he found no traction. He was very disappointed but he seemed to understand.

He then said something that really touched me.

“If I can’t play, I wish just one person in my family would take a serious interest in football and the Seahawks; none of my friends like the game and I’d love to have someone to talk about it.”

It’s not surprising that there aren’t that many fans with whom to chat here. Portland is a soccer-obsessed town and we don’t even have our own professional football team. Adding to this is the fact that with so many transplants here, those who do follow football are just as likely to cheer on the Jets or the Pats as the Seahawks.

Or they follow college ball and are either Team Ducks or Team Beavers (University of Oregon vs. Oregon State University).

But Oliver loved the Seahawks — and for someone who claims not to like to draw, there were a lot of examples to dispute that.

Now, I don’t know how many of you have teenagers, but I do know this much.  When a kid who usually resorts to a “yes/no/it was fine” vocabulary  tells you there’s something important enough to them that they want to talk to you about it, you should listen.

And study up.

We made Seahawks game-watching a family priority, but the beginning of the season was worrisome and frustrating.

The team showed little of the promise that brought them to the Superbowl twice in the last two years (and gave them a both a dominant win and a narrow loss).

It was a hard time to be a fan –so much squandered potential.

Added to this drama was that so many injuries befell our players– Ricardo Lockette, Jimmy Graham, Marshawn Lynch and Thomas Rawls, to name a few.

But we kept watching every week.

For the first time in our lives, we all embraced a televised sport together.

We’d sit down and watch and talk and stuff ourselves silly with all kinds of goodness.

Like Cheddar Garlic Biscuits.

Or Pigs in a Blanket, inspired by this New Year’s feast.

Oliver and I researched all the time and talked about what we’d learned about our players. Other teams. Different coaches. How we matched up.

Oliver started a bulletin board of all  32 teams in the AFC and NFC, tracking progress in the league.  Each team had their own icon and he moved them around every Monday morning based on how they’d done over the weekend.

Every Monday night we discussed where we were at, and we started to notice who was in the hunt for play-off spots.

I read everything I could so I could keep up. I read sports sections of several newspapers. I downloaded the ESPN and NFL app on all my devices. It’s all I could think about, all I wanted to talk about.

What? Me? (Not so long ago I thought both baseball and football were played in innings).

My extended family couldn’t believe my football obsession and my brother Dave in particular was shocked. Now with a big job at Stanford and a life-long avid college and pro-football fan, he asked me where this sister had been hiding all these years (and told me he would have liked to have her around when he was a football-obsessed teenager).

More game watching.

And then the Seahawks starting winning some big games, including a blowout against the Minnesota Vikings, a top-tier team. We trounced them 38-7, not allowing them a single offensive point.

It was if Russell Wilson and Pete Carroll had completely turned the team around and re-lit the spark.

Hope returned.

We were winning a lot of games, and by the end of the regular season, we had gone from 4-5 to 10-6, earning us a spot in the playoffs.

More good food awaited us.

Like homemade Macaroni with Four Cheeses.

And when injured players rejoined our team, we celebrated that, too.

Here is our pancaked homage to Kam Chancellor who returned after weeks of injury (and what you don’t see are all the initial pancakes of opposing players I’d make and then superstitiously either throw out or give to Bailey).

Next up, we barely eked out a win in a rematch against the Minnesota Vikings in the 3rd coldest playoff game ever played (reaching a low of -7 degrees). So what if it was Blair Walsh’s impossible miss of a field goal from only 27 yards that gave us the win?

We’d made a big comeback just before that and it felt like the momentum was with us.

It was then that I truly realized what a nervous football watcher I am; excitable, deeply superstitious, fretful. Every week my nerves would be shot cheering on a team for whom I was forging a deep respect and admiration.

But win or lose, Sundays and football were all about the carbohydrates.

Like Pasta Carbonara.

And Steak Sandwiches.

We’d won 7 of our last 8 games and many predicted that the Seahawks were unstoppable now.

We had everything we needed to go all the way back to the Superbowl (and erase the ugly images of that last Patriot interception that cinched last year’s win for them in the last 30 seconds of the game).

And then it was time for us to take on the Panthers.

I knew this divisional round of the playoffs would be the most difficult one of the season, and QB Cam Newton was delivering mind-blowing stats.

In the days leading up to last Sunday’s game, nervousness reigned, so I thought I’d best make a snack I could eat for days and hours before.

Time to pull out the Big Guns.

Chex Snack Mix.

I won’t insult your intelligence by providing a recipe here (I think everyone knows it’s just salty stuff plus butter and Worcestershire sauce) but I can say that after thirty years of making this snack mix, I can offer some pointers.

So let’s take a break from football here and talk snack mix.

I think everyone should know how to make a good one– and sending a kid off to college without this knowledge is equal to forgetting to show them how to do laundry.

Don’t you want your kid to be the one kid in a crowded room who can make a killer snack?

So here goes.

5 TIPS TO THE BEST SNACK MIX.

1. Be sure you are starting with very fresh salty foods.

This is is not the time to drag out that box of oyster crackers in the back of the pantry that’d been opened and neglected for months.

Sure, you’ll be crisping them up but an unhappy cracker will doth not a happy mix make.

2. When assembling ingredients, go for a variety of at least 6 different things (with 8-10 optimal).

I think the various Chex Cereals are a must (wheat, corn and rice) but I like adding different things as well.

Think outside the cereal box — anything salty and crunchy is apt to work out well. Pretzels of all kinds are a winner, as is popcorn or nuts (especially cashews or almonds).

The more varied your snack, the more interesting it’ll be, so keep going. Triscuits? Why not. Goldfish? If you love them, throw them in, too.

And if you want to make it for a certain holiday, jump right in.

3. Go for the inclusion of one standout snack.

Everyone expects the cereal, the pita chips and/or the pretzels, but are you bold enough to go all out?

I’m talking Ruffles, BBQ Fritos and/or your favorite tortilla chip. Or how about those yummy sesame sticks they serve on the plane?

(this week’s batch featured Ruffles and Japanese potato crisps along with the more traditional ingredients).

The time is now — add them to the bowl. You won’t regret it.

Even if your standout chip is only 20% of your whole mix, I guarantee your snack mix will be remembered with weepy gratitude.

4. Melt lots of butter and season it to the hilt.

Don’t wimp out on me here. Add garlic — like insane amounts (either fresh or powdered). Same so for smoked paprika and cumin. Add that Worcestershire sauce and then drizzle that spiced butter liberally over your mix. Salt heavily, too.

After all, there’s nothing too exciting about just-warmed up pretzels and cereal.  Once your mix starts tasting like your favorite ranch dressing or flavored potato chip, however, you know you’re getting close.

5. Go for a slow heat — and stir occasionally.

I like to cook my mix on cookie sheets or roasting pans at 250 degrees for about an hour and a half — this allows for the butter to be completely absorbed into the snack mix, the herb/garlic mixture to toast and the mixture to come out evenly crisped without any burning.

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So the Chex Mix was ready.

Oliver and I’d traded stories, texts and followed injury reports for days. We’d watched old game tapes and commentators debate the pros and cons of each teams.

Charlotte made a poster and put it up where we could all read it.

I put on my lucky hat.

I grabbed the Seahawk Kelly Green pashmina I’d bought just for this game.

All of us sat together, nervous but excited, ready to watch the game that would take us to the next level.

And then it happened.

The moment no fan wants to see.

Football Horror.

I won’t go into the details of the game; suffice it to say that the Panthers dominated us the first half and then we shone in a near miraculous second half but alas, we came up short.

We lost — and all our hopes, dreams, and initial pancakes were over.

Done.

Bummer.

What’s so surprising to me was not so much how it ended (we finished off a much better season than anyone thought we would), but one other fact.

How much I’d come to care about this team — and how bereft I felt when it was all over.

How do football fans do it?

How can people get so committed, care so deeply for a group of guys, feel your hopes soar, and then when it’s suddenly over, just casually walk away?

A season over in a blink of an eye (or a missed off-side kick).

In the days since this weekend’s loss,  I felt a funk take over.

Was it the letdown after such an emotional roller coaster?

Was my complete football obsession a substitute for other things in my life that needed addressing — and I’d now just run out of excuses?

Or did I sense that I’d be losing the closeness I’d come to enjoy with my son?

Football had brought us together in a way I’d never seen. I knew I was going to miss all these things to talk about with him and our little football bubble.

Hope resurfaced yesterday.

He put his arm around me and asked if I was okay.

I told him I missed the excitement of the games and the thrill of the march to the Superbowl.

Frankly, I missed the Seahawks in my life.

Oliver reminded me about all the good games and the hope for next year. After all, he reminded me, we’ll still have Russell, and Tyler, and Doug and Kam — and all these other amazing players.

“Next year, Mom. Just wait.”

I guess being a football fan is a little like allowing yourself to fall in love.

You know there’s a good chance at the end you’ll be disappointed or even heartsick, but there’s always a chance–no matter how small — that it will all end up one day in your favor.

 

Go Seahawks.