Sunday, February 3, 2013

Missy (Doesn't Give a) Flippin Football

She had her reasons for going to UT. Football wasn't one of them.

I'm not into football. 

There. I said it. I know this will make some people want to take away my Texas card and have me deported to - to where? Where is the haven for Texans who don't love football? 

I have literally fallen asleep during a football game. And I don't mean on the couch, I mean, on the 40 yard line at Rice University, watching them get beat by the Longhorns, I curled up in my hard little seat and took a snooze. On a date, no less.

We never went out again. But it wasn't because I fell asleep. It was because my date drank so much during tailgating and the game that when his friend dropped me off at my house he literally couldn't stand up straight in my yard. Tip to single guys: if she wants to go out with you again after you pull that stunt, RUN FOR YOUR LIFE. Co-dependency is only cute in the the beginning.

Both my parents are big football fans.  I remember taking many a nap on Sunday afternoons to the calming white noise of the NFL. Can't blame them for not raising me right, bless their hearts, they tried.

At the University of Texas, I was very into football games, only because it was a big deal to go to football games with a date. I took great interest in choosing which blanket skirt from Harold's to wear with which big silver earrings. And if it looked like the ticket takers were doing Roper checks, I gladly offered to hide the flask of Captain Morgan's spiced rum in the the folds of said blanket skirt. The combination of my football ditziness and the Captain Morgan's and Diet Cokes meant that I frequently found myself excitedly cheering - for the wrong team. After a few embarrassing times I learned to do a 'cheer check' with the surrounding fans before I joined in the enthusiasm. But if I didn't have a date to the game? I just went to the mall instead stayed home and studied.

When I, a Longhorn, married Walker, and Aggie, some people worried it would make for tense Thanksgivings for years to come. Trust me, I assured them, it'll be fine. Something big and monumental happened last year so that UT and A&M don't even play each other any more.  Don't ask me the details. Just rest assured that our marriage is now even solid-er. 

I really wish I were one of those cool girls who knew the names of the football players, could grasp the complexity of how "downs" work, and whose husband didn't roll his eyes in disbelief at my shrug every Super Bowl when he asks me, "Which teams are playing today, Missy?"

But I just don't give a flip.
I've come to accept it.
Love me, love my athletic apathy.
I am Missy Doesn't Give a Flippin Football. 

As the last presidential election campaigning heated up, Walker, who used to be obsessed with politics and was known for his Rain Man like ability to name every congressman's details down to their church affiliation (for real - nerdiest party game ever), made this pronouncement: "Politics are ridiculous. It's all vanity under the sun. Republican, Democrat, they're all alike. I'm done with politics. I am officially ending my political obsession.

"From now on, I will be obsessed with only one thing: FOOTBALL."

Faaaaaaaaantastic. Politics were at least interesting to me. Now he's obsessed with the very thing that puts me to sleep.

Now every night we leave oranges and light incense before our Tim Tebow and Johnny "Flippin Football" Manziel shrines. (See, I know two names. All that proves is that I am not deaf.)

Tonight my husband and my elder likewise-obsessed son went to his friend Brian's to watch The Game. Brian also made turducken, which I find a little odd. But unlike my husband, I did know what a turducken is. Take that, Walker Dollahon!  

I went with the other three shorties down the street to Bekah and Brandon's. They had a big screen set up on their deck. The Football People ecstatically watched the game. I drank wine, ate guacamole, chatted with neighbors, and waited with about 20% anticipation for Beyonce's halftime performance. She is a Houston girl, after all.

Bekah made chili. I've read enough Southern Livings to know that chili is official football food, as opposed to turducken. As she arranged the cheese and onions and Fritos I confessed to her, "I don't even know who's playing." She whispered, "Me neither. I asked Brandon, and he told me, but I forgot." I felt really close to her at that moment.
The kids are in bed, The Game is about 3/4 over. I don't know who's winning because, y'all, I don't even know who's playing.

But that's okay.
Because Walker promised me that tonight, when he gets home from Brian's, we'll watch Downton Abbey.
And the marriage gets even solid-er.


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