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It’s still a week too early to know if there are going to be
any problems with Super Bowl XLI. But as far as I could tell, there
was only one problem with Super Bowl I. The Green Bay Packers
weren’t green. They were blue.
And even though I had never before seen a professional football
game live and on living color TV, I had read enough Sports
Illustrated to know that the dark jerseys worn by the Green Bay
Packers were green. NOT blue.
"Maybe it’s something special they’re doing for the Super Bowl," my
Dad suggested. "It’s a special jersey for the big game."
I might have gone for that had it not been for the purple-ish tint
to Bart Starr’s face.
"Those colors aren’t right, Dad," I said. "I know it."
Eventually Dad agreed. Which led us to a new problem: what to do
about it? Since we had never before had a color television, we didn’t
know a thing about tint and color adjustment. And as usual, Dad had
thrown out the instructions, confident that there wasn’t any problem
with any TV that couldn’t be fixed with masking tape, tin foil or a
sharp rap on the side.
"It’s probably a problem with the transmission," Dad said. He
flipped the channel selector knob to the other station that was
carrying the game. Not only were the Packers wearing blue uniforms on
this channel, but the grass on the football field had a decidedly
blue-ish tint to it. Dad shrugged his shoulders and sighed.
"I’ll get a repairman out tomorrow," he said, resigning himself to
spending the first Super Sunday afternoon watching the blue-ish
Packers trounce the purple-ish Kansas City Chiefs, whose helmets
should have been a bright cherry red. It was a minor irritation, to be
sure, but it somehow cast a pall over our enjoyment of the pre-game
festivities. This was the first Super Bowl, and we were watching it on
our super new color TV. It was supposed to be . . . you know . . .
super.
"At least we can still see the game," Dad sighed.
Just a few minutes before kickoff, my big brother Bud arrived with
Craig, a college friend who hailed from Alberta, Canada. I didn’t know
much about Canadians, but my fourth grade teacher was from Canada, and
she was one of the smartest people I knew. So it didn’t surprise me a
bit when Craig took one look at the TV and knew there was a problem.
"Why are the Packers wearing blue uniforms?" he asked.
"There’s something wrong with the TV," Dad said. "I’ll call the
repairman tomorrow."
Craig looked at the TV for a moment. "I don’t think you need a
repairman," he said. "I just think your tint is off a little." He
reached behind the set and began fumbling with buttons. Suddenly our
color TV was a black and white.
"Oops," Craig said. "Wrong button."
A moment later color was restored – and perfected. The Green Bay
Packers were resplendent in their traditional green and gold. The
Kansas City Chiefs looked crisp and sharp in their red and white. The
field was green, the sky was blue and it was a Super Sunday, indeed.
It amazed me then – and often has since – what a difference a minor
adjustment can make. A pinch of salt, a slight twist of a screw, a
well-placed nail or a tweak of a button from someone who knows what
they’re doing can change everything. The same principle holds true in
matters emotional. While there are some hurts that cannot be easily
repaired, it’s amazing how much a kind word, a friendly gesture or a
gentle touch can change our perspective.
And make everything seem . . . you know . . . super.
Joseph Walker |
