THE TASTE OF THE NFL

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Nothing says professional football like duck quesadilla.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking the beer man and I have gotten too cozy. But trust me, I am speaking with my faculties when I tell you that duck quesadilla really complements an NFL match-up.

Recently, my father-in-law and I attended our annual Atlanta Falcons game together. He has season tickets, and I head to the Georgia Dome for a game each year.

I will continue to do this until his grandchildren are interested in football, at which point I will be replaced. He denies this, but I know it's coming. When is the last time he brought ME a stuffed animal or candy? Exactly.

When we go to a game, we always go a few hours early so that we take in the experience. And by "take in the experience," I mean ogle the cheerleaders.

And believe me -- nothing makes a woman happier then when you bring home a picture of her husband and father with the Atlanta Falcons cheerleaders.

But another reason to get to the game early is for the good food.

My father-in-law has what are known as club level seats. This means we do not have to mingle with the unwashed commoners of the upper deck.

OK, what it really means is that he forked a few extra bucks so that we have access to the good food.

In the old days, basic sports fare was hot dogs, pretzels and nachos with cheese the consistency of latex.

But over the past few years, stadiums have realized that if you dress things up and provide more of a selection, you can actually get away with charging $12 for a sandwich.

As we were walking in this time, we noticed a large buffet set up with a sign that read "Taste of the NFL." This was a promotion in which they offer up food from the opposing team's city. The Falcons were taking on the San Diego Chargers, and if there is one thing that is synonymous with San Diego, it's....ducks?

Not one to question their motives, we decided that there would be few times in life where we have the chance to eat San Diego duck.

The duck, I have to say, was delicious. I am not sure if San Diego has some different kind of ducks, but this was a bit spicy, and came with a nice assortment of rice, beans and plantain chips.

When St. Louis played in Atlanta, the Taste of the NFL offering was sausage and peppers. Just thought I'd share that.

When we got to our seats, we did our usual pre-game ritual, which was to wait and see what the luck of the draw would provide us in terms of neighbors.

There are a few other season ticket holders who are always there, but there is invariably a new group dotted about to make it interesting. The previous week, my father-in-law had seated in front of him a group of women who, from his description, could have been hampered by being in a dome, since their hair could have probably extended well into the Atlanta air space. Fortunately, the 50-something men in front of us for this game did not sport beehives.

As the game was about to get started, my father-in-law motioned to a couple that was heading down the aisle. They were heading to the only two open seats remaining, which were right next to me. "Watch this," he said. "They will not say a word to each other the whole game, and he'll just read the paper the whole time."

Sure enough, for the next three hours, she sat staring into the abyss. And he read his paper.

The only time they ever had any acknowledgment of each other was when, around the second quarter, he nudged he with an elbow and pointed to the headline of a story on the flu vaccine shortage. She nodded, and went back to starting.

I am not sure why you would want to pay for tickets, battle traffic and wade through crowds just to read a paper.

I mean, part of the fun is seeing the game, right? Then again, maybe not. Maybe they just game for the duck.