I am a girl who loves football. I mean, I really love football to the point of obsession and it's not just because there are lots of cute men who play football (I'm looking at you, Mark Sanchez and Jason Taylor). No, I love football because it's the best kind of sport: it combines violence and skill and excitement and it gives me an excuse to act like an overgrown child when something good, or bad, happens to whichever team I'm rooting for. It's perfectly paced, too. I can't handle baseball because it's boring and way too slow. I can't handle basketball because you don't have a chance to celebrate a good shot because something else is already happening. Plus all the squeaky shoes make me want to kill myself.
In the fall, my weeks play out like this:
Monday- Monday Night Football (most likely at a bar where I can cheer with or against the other patrons who think I'm awesome 'cause I'm a girl who likes football)
Tuesday- Check the stats of my fantasy football team and lament the shitty performances of my supposedly great players. (Thanks for nothing, Chris Johnson!)
Wednesday- Waste my work day reading NFL.com, ESPN.com and a bunch of blogs so that I can have vastly intelligent sports conversations with unsuspecting victims.
Thursday- Thursday Night Football, when it's on. Otherwise, I repeat Wednesday's activities and rearrange my Fantasy Football lineup.
Friday- High school football. Yes, I go to high school football games. Not because I'm a creepy weirdo, but because one of my good friends is a high school football coach and I like to show my support. And, let's face it, I am a creepy weirdo.
Saturday- College football. It wasn't until this year that I gave into college football, but now that I have, I enjoy it. I still prefer NFL, but college is a nice, leisurely substitute.
Sunday- I shut down. I refuse to participate in any activity that does not involve me, sitting in front of a television in NFL attire, screaming obscenities at the screen like they can hear me and will respond to my commands. I wake up early to make the last minute changes to my Fantasy Football roster and to add some "smack talk" aimed toward my opponent about how big of an ass kicking they are going to get. I watch football (and football highlights, analysis, and commentary) from 9 in the morning 'til 9 at night. It's my favorite day of the week (especially since Dexter is on Sunday nights, so when I have a particularly bad football day, I can escape into a fictionalized world where I rid myself of bad guys AKA the Patriots, the Cowboys and the Raiders. Oh, and Kurt Warner. He may be retired, but I hate the shit out of that guy.)
Spring and summer are sad times for me with a few exceptions: the NFL draft, the release of the fall schedule for me to plan vacations around, and the NFL players I diligently follow on Twitter become far more chatty and willing to BS with peons like myself. I can't even fully enjoy the summer anymore because I'm too busy anticipating training camp. It's unhealthy, I'm sure, but I'd rather obsess over teams and stats than becoming a crackhead. And, yes, in my head, those are the only two options.
Until next time,
Blanche Sanche
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