Yay!!! The Pats go to the Superbowl!!
I don't care for football. Matt loves football. I root for the Pats of course because they're my home team, but I don't understand the game and its neanderthal bogies pig-piling each other. I know a touchdown when I see one, and I can woot for that, but other than that I space out and think about what's in the fridge. Boooring!
Matt tries so hard to explain to my thick skull what football is all about. Last night I really wanted to know, to understand, to be able to cheer for the Pats. More surprising things have happened: I hated baseball, and last year I watched more of it than I ever did in my life, and subsequently I've become one of those obnoxoius Red Sox fans with the hat, shirt and matching license plates, sticking my tongue out at people wearing Yankees shwag. I've always been a Sox fan, but never into the sport itself.
This is what happens when you're one of those freeks in high school into Gary Numan and all the jocks and their silly cheerleader slut girlfriends harangue you all day. You associate everything about them as bad: frosty hair, blue eyeliner, pegged acid-washed jeans, (this is the 80's people, I could be yer mum!), hammer pants, and SPORTS.
Ah well. I did enjoy hockey. Loved the Bruins. Had a crush on Steve Kasper with his caterpillar eyebrows. And who couldn't love basketball then?? Larry Bird, Danny Ainge, Kevin McHale....I had the team photo hanging next to my bed.
But football and baseball? Yuk.
How things change. The Pats sucked then, and the Sox were perpetual underdogs. Look at them now. Look at me now sitting on the couch drinking Budweiser wearing a Yankee-Hater hat and freaking the fuck out over the game and sincerely trying to understand the complexities of football.
I don't care for football. Matt loves football. I root for the Pats of course because they're my home team, but I don't understand the game and its neanderthal bogies pig-piling each other. I know a touchdown when I see one, and I can woot for that, but other than that I space out and think about what's in the fridge. Boooring!
Matt tries so hard to explain to my thick skull what football is all about. Last night I really wanted to know, to understand, to be able to cheer for the Pats. More surprising things have happened: I hated baseball, and last year I watched more of it than I ever did in my life, and subsequently I've become one of those obnoxoius Red Sox fans with the hat, shirt and matching license plates, sticking my tongue out at people wearing Yankees shwag. I've always been a Sox fan, but never into the sport itself.
This is what happens when you're one of those freeks in high school into Gary Numan and all the jocks and their silly cheerleader slut girlfriends harangue you all day. You associate everything about them as bad: frosty hair, blue eyeliner, pegged acid-washed jeans, (this is the 80's people, I could be yer mum!), hammer pants, and SPORTS.
Ah well. I did enjoy hockey. Loved the Bruins. Had a crush on Steve Kasper with his caterpillar eyebrows. And who couldn't love basketball then?? Larry Bird, Danny Ainge, Kevin McHale....I had the team photo hanging next to my bed.
But football and baseball? Yuk.
How things change. The Pats sucked then, and the Sox were perpetual underdogs. Look at them now. Look at me now sitting on the couch drinking Budweiser wearing a Yankee-Hater hat and freaking the fuck out over the game and sincerely trying to understand the complexities of football.