My dad was a mathematician and he tried to draw me charts to explain the game. I paid attention as best I could, but every time he drew those lines of Xs and squiggles, I went into the same coma that I did when he helped me with my math homework. He never understood that creative people think in storyboards in their heads. Concepts, intangibles and details… those are the elements we understand. Numbers are for other people.
Trying to learn football from my dad’s diagrams always brought me back to those evenings from Hell when he would try to help me with those mathematical “thought problems” that the teacher would give us for homework. He would get so frustrated with me and I would always end up in tears. You remember those problems, right? If Mary drives 14 miles in 32 minutes, how much taller is Jane than Mary if Jane is a Presbyterian? Nothing made me feel dumber than those stupid problems. I only wish I knew then that none of that crap really comes up in life.
Football has eluded me for so long, I don’t really think there is any hope for me at this point. I was married for centuries and my ex-husband even tried to explain the game to me. Unfortunately he always did it during a football game. He would start out really great. Then someone on the field would do something amazing and he would stop in mid-sentence to yell or swear and jump up and down. When he began again, he often would lose his place and lose me completely. Then another play would grab his attention and screaming at the television became more important than teaching. I would sit there obediently and try to unscramble the mystery of football on my own. After all, I am an intelligent woman. How hard can this thing be?
As I would watch the men crashing into each other and act like I was taking it all in, my mind always drifted to thoughts that made more sense to me. Like… why did a team pick such a lame name? If I played football, I would rather be a Steeler than a Dolphin, no offense. I may not have learned football, but as I was pretending to watch the game all those times, I came to realize with complete certainty something that has gone unnoticed by those so absorbed by what’s happening on the field. Spandex is for the very few. I don’t think the players are at all aware of how huge their butts look in those uniform pants, and I made this observation long before HD.
I am a little sad that I can’t get too excited about the monstrously important bowl game that is coming up this Sunday. I live alone now, so there is no chili or dip to make. I have no hostess duties to keep me occupied. I felt very alone until I called my spa to book an appointment for late Sunday. They were completely booked. Imagine that...
Although the men in my life didn’t help me much to love and appreciate the All-American addiction of watching football, there is one thing that I DID learn from football and I think that it should be become a law or at least standard operating procedure.
This whole deal of Sudden Death is brilliant! How many times have I been left waiting because there were only 3 minutes left in the game? It didn’t take me long to learn that Sudden Death is anything but sudden and can take an eternity.
The first place I would suggest that this maneuver is adopted is when couples go shopping at the mall. When you haven’t found the perfect item yet and he wants to go home, you tell him “only 5 more minutes” and then proclaim Sudden Death! You can whip through endless retail shops... 20 seconds at a time! The great thing about this is that the clock doesn’t start until you have arrived inside the next store and are positioned to start shopping. What do you think of that idea, girls? I love it!
Have a divine time watching THE GAME. I will certainly join you for half-time. We can all “Vogue” together with Madonna. Is it a date?
