Monday, September 15, 2008
Football Burns Us, Precious
Here is my impression of football:
Players line up. Whistle! Scramble, scramble, scramble. DOGPILE! And repeat.
Then, once in a while, one guy or another kicks the ball really hard. Sometimes through that big pitchfork at the far end of the field. Sometimes not.
And then, refs come on and say something nonsensical about yards and make some hand gestures. A yellow handkerchief gets thrown around a lot. All the while, the clock ticks away so slowly you begin to wonder if time has ceased to move at all.
I realize that in saying that football makes no sense to me, I'm playing into the old "women just don't get sports" thing. But I get sports. I just don't understand football. Which is not to say that I haven't tried to understand. I've asked several people to explain it to me, men and women. But when I do that, their eyes glaze over, and they start to speak in gibberish.
"You see, there are these things called downs. And you have a certain frame of time to gain some yards. Then, everybody runs in a circle, crawls through a tunnel of fire, and we all eat cotton candy. Make sense?" To which I reply, "Sure, sure."
Also, I have the attention span of a Pop Tart, as I'm sure I've mentioned on numerous occasions, so the fact that the action happens in short spurts means that I always miss it because I am staring at the sky or wondering why everyone around me is jumping up and down. I hear cheering, I look, and by that time, the players are lining up for another go at it. It's nonsense, man. Nonsense...
I actually believe I got that elusive recessive gene that makes it impossible for me to enjoy or absorb any information surrounding the sport of football. My mom can just hear the opening notes of the Monday Night Football song and fall into a deep, deep sleep. Which is why she's not allowed to listen to anything by Hank Williams, Jr. while she's driving or near a hot stove.
My sister, on the other hand, got the dominant football-appreciation gene from my dad. My childhood was punctuated by the sounds of my dad clapping loudly and shouting, "HEY!" when something good happened in one of those end zone thingys. And somehow his enthusiasm got passed down to the rest of my siblings. But not me. Ho hum...
But since it's almost fall now, football is all the rage. And it's not just the professional stuff but college games as well. Your television is never taken over by college baseball, hockey, or fraternity drinking contests. So, what makes college football so special? Anybody?
So, this fall, let's focus on what really matters. Okay? Because we all know what's important during the fall season. Halloween candy. That's right.
No? Okay, you enjoy that game then. I'll just be over here eating peanut butter cups with the Great Pumpkin.