As I was about to leave, he asked for my number.
In the spirit of fun, I gave it to him. Nobody meets people in bars anymore, or so I thought. The next time we met up, it was at my favorite Packer bar, where we watched my boys trounce the Oakland Raiders, 37-27.
Four months later, we moved in together.
Ah, such is the pace of life in NY, especially when it comes to dating. But I digress. Today is about football. Yesterday, August 11, kicked off a special time of year, a time of new beginnings. A holiday season of testosterone, if you will. From now until February, I’ll be spending my Sundays in front of televisions the size of Buicks, checking conference rankings, fantasy picks, ESPN montages, and the occasional man-to-man butt slap.
As a girl who enjoys many activities associated with men (gambling, fishing, hunting) football has a strange power over me. It transports me to a different place in time. It makes me happy in ways few other activities can. Not to mention slightly hot and bothered, depending on the team. It’s very freeing to be able to scream and swear without anyone getting upset (except that one time I shouted WHO CARES ABOUT THE GIANTS?) whoops.
Football is a lot like dating. You go into the situation full of anticipation and high hopes. Using the right combination of plays and textbook maneuvers, there may be a chance to score. Whether you’re watching or playing, there’s a lot of down time involved. There’s the adrenaline high of winning, and the crushing blows of losing.
So here’s to a great season and a great sport. May the best