“I’m an indoor girl” has always been my go-to line when the conversation turns to sports. Not only do I not understand most sports, namely football, but I also don’t play them (Let me put it this way: my “sporting” career ended in elementary school when my hair swooped around, blinding me, during an agility run and I face planted in front of the entire student body).
So, now that the season has clicked to fall, football is on everyone’s minds. Every man in my life has tried to explain the rules of football to me over the years in hopes that my eyes would stop glossing over during games. “Each team gets four chances, and those chances are called downs.” Yep, you lost me. I checked out when you said “team.” I really like the idea of football, though. It has always intrigued me. Dressing up in your team’s colors (yes, it’s all about the outfits) and cheering them on (and actually knowing when and why to cheer) seems like it could be fun. But the game itself is just so…boring. I decided this was the year I would turn that around.
So, I set up shop in front of the Ohio State/Miami game Saturday with the greatest of intentions. I had my non-alcoholic beer (I’m preggers), my chips and my iPad (I needed something to take the edge off). It was going pretty well (although I had no idea what that arrow thing on the field was. How did it have a countdown clock on it? It must not really be there). My husband even came home and saw me watching and I could tell he was super impressed.
I did surf Etsy a bit (um, the Halloween decorations aren’t going to buy themselves), but I lasted until halftime at which point I needed to change the channel to avoid the announcers confusing me. I eventually switched back and it was kind of exciting I have to admit. When no one is scoring it’s kind of a snooze, but it gets good when they run the ball into that area with the team’s name on it and the crowd goes wild. I can’t say I knew everything that was going on, but I think I got the jist? Mostly they just pile on top of each other a lot. I mean, it’s like reading for school. No one really reads 6 novels a semester for English Lit. You skim. I went to a liberal arts college. Trust me, you skim. Maybe my school is to blame (and my biological makeup) for my lack of interest in football. We had a polo team–not a football team. The boys that went to my college didn’t want to get dirty.
After doing a bit of research, it’s clear I’m not alone in that football makes my brain hurt. There are whole websites devoted to helping women understand the pigskin. As I got to thinking, I remembered in college my brother and me were planning to write a book explaining the rules of football in terms of shoes and purses–you know, shit women understand. Like my idea for Doke (a combination of regular and Diet Coke), that idea never came to fruition, but we obviously would be rich by now.
Strangely, I have girlfriends that claim they not only like, but they actually comprehend, football. These chicks
voluntarily go to games and own jerseys. That’s hardcore. They even play Fantasy Football, which, by the way, baffles me. Why would anyone want to pretend play something? I mean, you’re not really playing football. Uh, OK, then I’m in the Ice Capades.
I don’t think I’ll ever be one of them, but I think I’m one step closer to being able to use the excuse “but the game’s on” to get out of helping with Thanksgiving dinner. Additionally, I ponder if I am able to converse with my husband about the Giants win over the Panther’s and possibly even suggesting we watch the game together next Sunday what might that mean for our relationship? Any bets on that?