Football Fever

A week or so ago, I was over at Rob’s apartment after work. We were having a bite to eat and watching the big game. And when I say “we”, I mean Rob, because I was too busy staring at the bubble in my pizza that bore a slight resemblance to Nicole Kidman in The Hours. And when I say “the big game”, you should take that to mean the football game between the Whosies and the Whasitcalleds.

Obviously, I’m not a big football person. I understand football in the way I understand my digestive system. It’s made up of many parts. A lot of things go into it. There’s some churning and rumbling. And then at the end, some shit happens. It’s a very rudimentary knowledge.

My attention to the game, however little I was giving it, began to falter as time went on. Not because of the game itself, but rather how Rob reacted to it. Sometimes he would be jumping up and down, cheering and shouting. Other times he’d be swearing and saying how much the team he likes “fuckin’ sucks”. Actually, the entire time the game was on was actually one long, loud swear word punctuated with moments of silence. And I feel it was only because he needed to breath every so often that they even occurred.

The entire 6 hours [or however long the big game was...I'm sure it wasn't days, because I didn't miss any work, but I could have sworn the sun had set and risen at least once] I watched Rob go through what had to be one of the most emotional times in his life. Normally I would try to ocmfort a friend during such a tumultuous time in their life. But that was impossible due to the flying fists, kicking legs and high pitched obscenities. We’re talking self preservation here, people. I bruise like a summer fruit.

At the end of the game, the Whosies ended up losing to the Whasitcalleds. Or something like that. In all honesty, the way both teams looked at the end of the game, you couldn’t tell who had won and who got repeatedly run over by a fleet of SUVs. In any case, I had a blast, if for nothing than watching a normally collected person lose their shit over a bunch of grown men in tights jump on one another just so they can hold irregularly shaped balls.

This weekend, I’ve been invited to a football party, because there is a game that is supposed to be one of the biggest games of the year. Michigan vs. Ohio State*. I’m EXTREMELY excited to see how this one turns out. As in, I’m excited for the variety of snacks and possibility of beer.

*The ONLY reason I remember this because Bridget is from Ohio, and I tend to remember things regarding that state when they come across my path. Because, and let’s be real here, it’s a boring state, so if anything remotely noteworthy happens, you’ve gotta be surprised.