Monday, January 22, 2007

It ain't over til it's over

Sweetpotato has broken the rules. I have made it very clear that football watching shall be limited to one Sunday per week for the viewing of one and only one team. Since said team was eliminated during the first round of the play-offs, the fact that two - count em- TWO football games were shown on my television yesterday, preventing me from watching "Grease: You're the One That I Want," was highly unacceptable.

Now can someone please explain to me how during regular season you can hate a team with your dying breath, yet in the play-offs you're cheering for them like you're their native son. Look, I have resigned myself to the fact that Sweetpotato will continue to foster this deep and abiding love for the Giants, having been brought up in the stadium and all, but to all of a sudden be cheering on some team from Indianapolis is just asinine!

Haven't I sacrificed enough? I gave up every damn Sunday since September to the Pigskin gods, and this devotion was supposed to be over by now but appears to have expanded to include any other team that's playing. No one consulted me on this! I thought the rules were, you picked one team to cheer for and hated all others, and yet it appears you pick one team to cheer for and secondary teams to cheer for just in case yours ain't playing. Ridiculous!

I guess I just don't understand all this fan behavior because my father, King Daddykins, wasn't into professional sports when I was a kid. Then one day, sometime during my high school years, he decided to take up NBA-watching, or more specifically Michael Jordan watching, and thus began screaming at the television like every other man in America. His viewing has expanded to other sports but since he didn't grow up with any team's allegiance, he just cheers for whoever everyone else isn't cheering for (as is so typical of his nature), and watches random games when he can't find anything around the house that needs to be painted, rewired, planted, mowed or cleaned. As he has now refinished every square inch of our house and yard, his football watching has taken on a greater frequency.

So you see, never being around a true "fan," it's been rather difficult for me to grasp the ideologies governing the mind of the hard-core football watcher. It is clear now that I underestimated the level of insanity of the season ticket holder, or perhaps it was head trauma suffered during their pee wee football days. Whatever the cause of the malfunction, it's clear that I'm not getting outta this football season until the fat lady sings....I should have started warming up earlier;-)

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