I decided tonight that I’m not cut out to be a football fan.
Previous to getting married, I didn’t care at all about football. It was one sport that seemed confusing and pointless to me. (Okay, so that pretty much applied to all sports, save baseball.)
But you know, you get married, and you try to take interest in the things your spouse enjoys. And when those interests mean spending countless Sundays at their house, watching a game, eating dinner, and watching a second game (or girl talk, eating dinner, and girl talk) it’s not such a heavy cross to bear.
Slowly, I began to retain information about the sport. It was a huge triumph for me this fall when, for the first year ever, I remembered what a “down” was without having it explained to me again. That was the first step toward getting on board. Maybe this game made a bit of sense, after all.
With my interest piqued, we entered what would turn out to be a sensational season, at least for someone married to a New England born-and-raised boy. I got hooked. How could you not, when week after week, your team won? …And won well, I might add.
I knew I was turning into a bit of a fan, especially when I voluntarily dressed my son in his jersey for church this morning, without Ryan asking even once. (Jerseys to church aren’t generally kosher in my book.)
But the moment I knew how deep this fanaticism had gone? When the Giants scored the deciding touchdown and tears sprang to my eyes. The only reason I didn’t honestly cry was that we were with other people, and I was mortified to think they’d see my red-ringed eyes and laugh.
I contemplated slipping into the bathroom to let it all out, but decided against that. I reminded myself that somehow my brother-in-law makes it through heart-rending disappointments without crying (to my knowledge), and that I needed to be strong for my husband.
Shortly thereafter, right around the end of the game, I decided I just don’t have the thick skin it requires to be a sports fan.
I am officially returning to my non-competitive lifestyle.
I must admit that I never thought I would be glad to not be with you folks until Super Bowl Sunday rolled around. Some Giants fans, some Pats fans, all in one family – this is too much competition. So I figured I would let you deal with the disappointment without me. AFter all, this is New York and I’m afraid the general sentiment was to root for the Giants. How hard would that have been?
And jerseys for church will never make sense to me. Glad you and Bri married the football fanatics and not me! ;)
I’m cut out of the same cloth, D, as far as football goes.
I THINK I know what down is, anyway.
some people would assume we are kidding, but you know we are not.
I actually got caught up in the excitement last night, too.
although I am still sorry I missed Paul Wyse’s piano recital.
(you understand that, too!)
i know. the pit in my stomach. ugh. i just walked out. i mean how do i just walk out in front 100 people. but i did. what a monstrosity…
D, our family of Partiots fans are in much morning today. We called my brother after the game ended and he really was too shocked to talk. Crazy how much you can get caught up in the game. We had made jerseys and had a party here at our apartment, and I’m sure the whole neighborhood heard our screams and then tears. I think I need to take your road of never getting into sports like that again. It just made my heart hurt too much.
Send Ryan my condolences and let him know we are mourning with him at the lose of this game….
I have tried many times to get “into” football. Fortunately my husband isn’t a total football fanatic..
Now HOCKEY on the other hand… ;-)
I was upset (and my sister nearly devastated!) after the ’06 – ’07 season was over and how many of my (our) favorite players the Sabres lost…. *sigh*
That’s ok… since Liam has outgrown his little Sabres warm up outfit!
To this day I do not understand football and IR even played for a year. (I just stood on the sidelines and cheered when I thought it was appropriate.)
I always end up watching a few games, though, and the SuperBowl is never missed. We were cheering for the Giants and thinking of Tom an awful lot last night.
Well, having been raised in a hockey family (oh, heck, ALL the sports were watched by my father and brothers–even fishing!), I have gotten used to the winning and losing concept. Sports on television are one thing but when it is your child, another thing altogether happens.
It is never really the loss that brings a wrench to my heart, it’s the way the losing team must feel. I watch them skate off, shoulders hunched, heads down, and even though I can’t see their faces through the face masks, I just know that their eyes are brimming, especially if it was a crucial game. I hate people to hurt—no matter what the reason (its that 100% mercy part of me that wants everyone to win).
Unfortunately, these games are contrived and created for entertainment so the outcome usually has a winner and a loser. It seems to be a microcosm of real life to me…