September 29, 2014 52 Comments
I’m a man in the sense that
* I think better of my looks than I ought
* I have a desire to go hunting
* I can’t stand rom-coms unless they star Tom Hanks or Adam Sandler
* I think what I have to say is the most important thing ever and I hardly listen to other people
* I’m still learning to master my table manners (or am I?)
* I drink milk out of the carton when no one’s looking
*I’m incredibly hot when I cuddle my puppies
So now that I’ve established my masculinity, I am free to admit something that not many of my co-gender can admit:
I hate football. (GASP!!)
Relax, people. I’m not part of a terrorist origination (though I’m sure that would be more acceptable to some people).
It’s not just because I wasn’t the most athletic growing up (I played a lot of street hockey and basketball, however). It’s not because I never scored a touchdown while the cheerleaders screamed my name from the sidelines.
Whenever I see a game on, I just keep thinking, “What’s the point?” I simply don’t get team spirit. The Patriots vs. the Raiders, whatever. People think that just because they’re from a certain state or town they’re football team is automatically the best in the country. I mean, if you’re from Detroit, are you really going to claim that the Lions are the best NFL team to root for?
I don’t know. I really just don’t get dedicating half my weekend to watching a bunch of overpaid baboons jumping all over each other fighting for a misshaped ball. I just don’t care about catching up on the scores while I’m at work, because honestly, that doesn’t make me any more money than my job does. And really, does nothing for me beneficial whatsoever.
I mean, football players are the biggest wimps on the planet, if you think about it. They get paid billions of dollars to play a little boy’s game for a profession. And then they cry bloody foul over every little injury – I mean, they have pads and helmets, people. They’re protected from head to toe. They twist a knee – don’t feel too bad for them when they’re sobbing on the field to get attention. They’ve got the insurance to take care of it. And private nurses to nurse them to health.
You know who actually earns their pay? Rugby players. That’s a game I can get into because there’s real violence, lots of risk, and no body protection. Those guys are awesome. Definitely a stupid profession, but they earn my respect much much more than football players. (And yes, I know the picture to the right depicts a soccer player, but it’s the same idea.)
And I don’t get people that spend a lot of time watching football. Do they feel more manly, like they’re living up to a cultural expectation? Honestly, get me a group of guys who’d actually want to play football (without the mama helmets and baby pads, of course), and I’m all in. Let’s go. Bring it on! That’s where the real action is at.
Plus, when did football become America’s pastime? Personally I think it’s only because of all the beer sponsorships and half-naked cheerleaders that propelled it to its current status.
I’m glad to say baseball is too classy for all that. So wake me up when it’s spring.