The Super Bowl is coming, and this is a very exciting event for most Americans. Anyone with a life is either hosting or attending a party, right? In my younger days, I always attended these parties, feeling that I had to feign interest while scarfing down a bunch of greasy, high calorie snacks. What’s wrong with me? Why don’t I like football?
Maybe it’s because I attended parochial schools for the first 12 years of my scholastic life. At my Catholic girls’ school, the nuns were more into Christian doctrine drills than football drills.
I didn’t play sports, and if I got sucked into some neighborhood game, I literally sucked. The first time I got hit by a baseball was the last time I held a bat. I bear a permanent scar on one eyebrow because I stood too close to someone swinging a golf club. Once, some kids on my block decided we should all play football. I got so confused that I walked to the park and played on the swings. I do like to swim, but my form is pathetic.
In college, I actually dated a football player for a while. Not sure what that relationship was all about, but it didn’t last. (Dodged a bullet there.) I went to a big ten school, and everyone in my dorm or sorority house went to the games. I enjoyed that, because I had the place all to myself for a few hours.
I knew I should be more athletic, but it never worked out. After college I tried to play tennis off and on through the years because it was the “in” thing to do and I thought it was an easy way to exercise. I met some nice women who actually were good tennis players, but the most I got out of the sport were some cute tennis dresses which I later donated to the Goodwill.
In every job I ever held after college, football was very important. Professional meetings never got off the ground until the discussion of last night’s game or this or that player had been thoroughly exhausted. I tried to fit in by nodding and smiling but I don’t think I fooled anyone. Probably, I could have bonded more with my male co-workers if I had at least had an opinion on who was the best quarterback.
Fortunately, my husband of 30 years has little interest in sports. He does root for the Corn Huskers because of his home state, Nebraska. And he understands football, which helps me on the rare occasions when we do decide to watch. Sometimes we get worked up about the Super Bowl, because there’s usually an underdog that we’re rooting for. Or, because we’re Hoosiers, we liked to brag about the Colts when they were in their heyday.
Some people don’t like football because the professionals make too much money. I don’t really care what someone gets paid to get their head bashed, and it doesn’t bother me if they kneel during the national anthem. It’s a brutal sport, and as far as I’m concerned, should be eliminated from all school athletic programs.
Happily, we are past the age where we get invited to Super Bowl parties.. Next Sunday, we’ll probably turn on the television for a while just to watch the commercials and halftime entertainment. And then we’ll go back again toward the end of the game. But the truth is, I’d rather read a good book