Football = Hilarity



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 One lady in  my social networking page was griping about football taking precedence over  church attendance  on Sunday.  I can commiserate with her but on a different scale. Lucky for me, play time for my husband's favorite football team starts at 3 pm so it does  not run counter with our church schedule but if it does, there's always the DVR to do it.

It's hard to compete with sports e.g. baseball and football specially when its in full season. I thought I was done and over with that. Growing up in a one television household with my older brother hooked on sports for the behemoths (basketball) in the land peopled by the vertically challenged (that is compared to a giant, no offense meant to my people, the Filipinos), he  would slyly  preempt any chance for me to switch channel  to my favorite TV show, I rue the fact that remote was not yet invented during that time ; as a consequence I developed a furtive enmity towards broadcasted sports in general.


It  robbed me of some episodes of Love Boat, Punky Brewsters, Man from Atlantis etc.  My lot had improved considerably since I moved here in United States for TVs in our house are like sentinels in every room  waiting to be put to life at anytime.  Still, I dread the sports season. Baseball season is not so bad, since its more of a genteel game, (boring if I may say so) but with football being a fast pace sport, I can not compete - for the attention and the use of our HD TV ( I call this the big TV) with my husband. 

The moment the St. Louis Rams starts grinding their cleats on the  turf , my husband is embedded on his favorite coach and only the call of his bladder or the imperious commercials can extricate him from it.  More often that not, I  would be roused from whatever I am doing by his encouraging words to the quarterback for a seamless pass, instructing the fullback, right/left tackle or the tightend to guard the prized quarterback, his clapping for yards that were gained, hurrays for the first down till the 3rd, and a deafening howl  of approbation when a touch down occur  in the end zone. 

But wait, if his team is losing, then he can be as bawdy  as an intoxicated sailor out on his liberty with sprinkle of  unprintable expletives here and there, castigating the wide receiver for an intercepted pass, haranguing the coaching team for an ineffective play and  a heart rending yelp when the opposing team scores.

I cope with these roller coaster scenarios unfolding in my household  with hilarity.  Look, these are 6 foot , 300 lbs men wearing  colorful spandex tights with matching  pads from their shoulder to their  tailbone.   It's the gayest costume in the world of sports, making the sports dome look like one big 1980 aerobic convention.  A capacious adult male in leggings running like a gazelle, gargantuan flesh on top of  each other on a pile up, torso paralyzing sacks and balletic catch by the wide receiver , these are sights to behold.

Cliche, if  you can't beat them, join them. So I consorted with  my husband in his enjoyment of the sport. But it does not mean I would spend my time watching the game like he does.  At least I know what my husband was talking about when he passionately described to me the play that he just  watched instead of the polite "really, "uhu" and "that's good" (meaning -  what the bleep bleep  are you talking about ). 

I just wish they can design more mannish sportswear for the football players, but on the other hand it would not be fun for me when that happens for it will divest me of my source of enjoyment watching grown burly spandexed men cavorting on the field .