Five years ago, shortly after the Salad Clan moved to Tampa, we got season tickets to the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.
That year, the Bucs throttled the Green Bay Packers 21-7 at Raymond James on a Monday night after several seasons of futility against Brett Favre & Co.
Feeling full of his 7-year-old oats, Salad Boy decided to mock Packers fans as we walked down the exit ramp.
"GO BACK TO WISCONSIN, YA CHEESEHEADS!"
Where he picked up this behavior, I'll never know.
I tried to warn him against such antics, although in truth I knew he probably was insulated by his immature age against an ass-pounding by a disgruntled Packer.
Still, I was mightily amused. Privately. Silently. But very amused.
I won't say that his heckling stopped that night. There's something that having a gigantic progenitor at his side that emboldens the lad. At times, I've had to step in and modulate his vocalizations.
"Brian," I told him once, "you don't heckle the cheerleaders."
Saying all this, I can only hope that he grows up, gets a video camera and heckles someone like Stephen A. Smith, who is truly worthy of his verbal scorn: