Football is a sport that I have almost always been around yet have never really understood. Growing up, every football Sunday NFL games would be on the TV, my dad on the couch reading in between plays, my mom folding laundry on the floor, and usually a fire in the fireplace. I was in the room too, usually reading a book. Football was always in the background, which may be partly why I never really got into it. I went to a college without a football team so I missed those formative years of building an understanding of the game as well as the loyalty to a team.
When I met my now husband it was clear that I would have some work to do in the sports world in order to keep up. He and all of his male cohorts are die hard football fans. In our Maryland-based group, the Ravens and Redskins stand out as the most favored teams with a few others coming in as close seconds. I was instantly grateful to have girlfriends in the group just as lost as myself when it came to football. Together we attempted to reject the game. We could entertain ourselves when Sunday rolled around and the group was watching “the game” together. Home alone however, with just my husband and “the game,” I went through many phases of feelings over this sport that dominates half of the year in my household.
My all-time low was when I realized I was jealous of football. Not a good place to be. Over the last two years I have worked hard to adjust my own feelings about football and what that means for Sundays (and sometimes also Thursdays, Saturdays, and Mondays) and the time I spend with my husband. I have learned how to take advantage of Sundays to make them “my day” while my husband watches game after game, but I have also found myself stopping what I’m doing and watching a play every now and then. Even more recently, I wanted to learn about football, or at least learn how to watch it in hopes I might enjoy it. After a few training sessions in watching football, it was indeed a little more interesting, all be it there is still much I don’t understand.
For whatever reason, this football season seems to have gone by very quickly. Not once did I resent “the game” being on and more often than not I was happy to watch a chunk of whatever game was on. Perhaps the best part of this season is that I finally joined my husband in genuinely cheering for the Ravens. I used to say that I was a Ravens fan “by default,” but now I truly do like the team. I see their talents, I know some of their names, and in the playoff game last night against Pittsburgh I really wanted them to win.
During last night’s game, I noticed myself really paying attention to the aggressiveness that is football and realized that this is an incredible sport. The force at which grown, enormous men run into each other just for the sake of knocking them down or fumbling the ball is really amazing. Every single play looks painful. On top of the physical aspect of it, games are played in extreme heat, cold, rain, all of which make the experience that much more intense. Last night I pretty much decided that football players are crazy for doing what they do, and when I said this out loud to my husband and his buddy who both played football together in high school, they agreed but said it’s worth it every game.
Little by little I’m appreciating the passion people have for this American pastime. One day I may have my own Flacco jersey. And at our Super Bowl party this year, I just may do more than gab with my girlfriends in the corner.
Go Cardinals!
