I always laugh at football games\nto see the cheerleaders, ostensibly the team's official and most fervent fans,\nstanding with their backs to the field the entire game. One would suppose that cheering\nfor a game presupposes an awareness of the game, as evidenced by\nlooking in its direction. But each group in the stadium has an assigned role\nto play. You have the announcers distributing information, the concessionaires\ndistributing peanuts, and the security guards standing sternly amid the frivolity.\nYou have the marching band, which borrows the field at half time to show off\nits talent of walking while blowing horns. You have the mascot, sweating in a\nbear suit. You have the players who train year-round to run an oblong ball into\na colored rectangle more times than their opponents. You have the coaches,\ntrainers, and water boys who act as the supporting paraphernalia of the players. You\nhave the referees who are the governmental body, ruling with flags and\nwhistles. You have the red-faced fans in constant mutiny against any rulings of\nthese governors, however just, which hinder the home team—that is, which\nhinder the local players whom the fans no more know than the visiting players,\nbut who wear the color of jersey symbolizing "us". And finally you have the\ncheerleaders gesturing at the fans who are quite oblivious of them, being\nintent on the game. Sports are a delightful absurdity.