The smell of burning leaves, the crisp cool air, the crunchy sounds on the ground, the thought of pumpkin pie and candy corn and apple cider, etc. It's all bliss to me--save one thing. FOOTBALL!
I've hated the game ever since I can remember. The only time I ever enjoyed football was going to local games in my small town when I was in high school, and believe me --it was never really about the game. It was about the boys and trying to fit into the local scene after living a sheltered existence in private school!
Growing up with 3 older brothers meant that football was on every Saturday and Sunday afternoon in our home! Every major holiday like Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's was all about the game, and it didn't matter who was playing or even if they were fans of either team on the field. Football was on TV, and thus it had to be watched.
On Thanksgiving, my sister and I would watch a couple of hours of the parades in the morning before getting booted off the TV. And then would start the real male bonding--the arguing over specific plays, the yelling matches at the TV, and the complete annoyance at anyone interrupting the game (i.e. a little sister asking a question was quickly banished from the room). And you can just imagine how thrilled they were when I would hide the TV remote right before the games started. I was far from blameless especially since it was probably my desire to watch a movie on TV myself that made me so ornery with my brothers in the first place.
As an adult, my dislike of football has continued. I have plenty of friends that love the game. In fact some of my closest girlfriends enjoy nothing better than watching a good football game, but I rarely join in even when they have parties. And when I'm with my family on the holidays, I make an effort to do other things. I guess I want Thanksgiving to be about family time, and to me family time isn't about falling asleep watching TV together or ignoring the pleas of the younger generation to join in some fun with them. And maybe because I don't have a family of my own, family time is so precious. I want to go for walks with my Mom and my nieces and nephews and play games and spend every minute I can in their company. Maybe it's become a matter of principle for me! Or maybe I'm just stubbornly refusing to follow that old "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" idea! Whatever it is, I haven't changed my opinion of the game.
My oldest nephew is now on a football team, and this past weekend, I went to his 1st football game ever. Despite my personal feelings for the game, I wanted to support him. So I went and for the most part enjoyed my time there. And yet at the same time, part of me was a bit saddened. I fear I am losing him to this game I dislike so much. I'm watching him change from that boy who liked nothing better than playing hours and hours of Monopoly into a young man who like his Dad and uncles now yells at the referees on TV.
I joked with a co-worker this morning that a lack of interest in football was on my top 10 list for a future mate. She laughed at me, and I could tell she thought me a bit silly, and perhaps I am as I pine for a man who doesn't like the game either. [With my luck, I'll meet a peewee league football coach and fall madly in love, and that will be an end to my soap box days.]
For now, I'm sticking to my anti-football stance. I think a healthy regard or interest in most things can be positive, but any obsession taken to extremes--whether in football or anti-football, photography or even card-making--can be harmful to ourselves and to those relationships around us! Maybe I should watch a game or two this season as therapy...hmmmm? Don't count on it.
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