It has arrived.
Of course, by "it," I mean American football season, the worst time of the year.
I suppose it could be worse. At least my husband is only interested in our home team. I hear some men will watch four games every Sunday, and spend the rest of their week consumed by "fantasy football," which I believe is some sort of sports version of Dungeons & Dragons.
Now, I've tried to understand football, but there's something in my brain that shuts off any time my husband tries to explain the rules to me. He opens his mouth, and all I hear is the "wah-wah-wah" of Charlie Brown's teacher. The only football rule I can confidently state is that the players try to go from the blue line to the yellow line. Only those lines aren't real. Or something.
Normally, when my husband watches football, I take the opportunity to have a little me time: I write, take a bubble bath, or work on holiday projects. But every now and then, I'm dragged to some sort of social gathering that revolves around football, and I'm expected to actually watch the game. Shudder.
So what happens when a football-hater like me is roped into participating? I've found that the easiest way to
have fun is to make sure that nobody else does. Perhaps you'd like to try some of my tricks:
- Wait until the home team is losing big, and ask what the score is.
- Find a partner who also hates football. Sit on opposite sides of the room. Carry on a long, loud conversation about Meg Ryan's hair, or something cute you saw on Pinterest.
- Eat all the drumstick-shaped chicken wings, and leave all the annoying double-boned ones for everyone else.
- Fawn over how cute and charming that player from the rival team is on those Doritos commercials.
- Wait until everyone is on the edge of their seat, because some guy is doing something important with a ball or whatever. Stand up in front of the TV and helpfully offer to get everyone a beer.
- Criticize the coach's fashion sense. Seriously, a sweatshirt over a collared shirt? Who is his stylist?
- Giggle whenever one of the announcers says "ball handling." Trust me, they will say it. A lot.
- Whenever a player does something particularly good (you can tell because everyone will cheer), ask if he was the one who got arrested recently. It doesn't matter who it is; chances are someone on the home team did, and nobody will want to be reminded of it.
- Stash the remote control under a couch cushion and wait for someone to sit on it. Watch as hilarity ensues.
I wish you luck in making it through the season, and if you ever need someone to commiserate with, you can find me bitching on Twitter every Sunday, from now through February. Go, team!
This post originally appeared on In the Powder Room.