As many of you have already gathered, I sometimes like to use my blog as a way to vent everyday observations and frustrations. Remember the “Letters to Everything” jag I was on a while back? Well, this is a bit like that, but perhaps more topical.
Today, in honor of Superbowl XLIX, I thought I would talk about exactly why I really don’t like football. I’m one of those people that’s more excited about the Superbowl commercials than the actual Superbowl. While the game is on, you can find me lurking about the chip bowl, doing things like this:
With this general expression:
As a matter of fact, I’m watching Crazy, Stupid Love for what feels like the hundredth time, because anything is better than football right now.
I feel like this statement by itself somehow marks me as fundamentally unpatriotic. If I’m an American and, for whatever reason, don’t enjoy my country’s national sport, I must also secretly hate puppies and sunshine, or something. Don’t get me wrong, I gave football a chance; but, it was only after being forced to watch football almost every Sunday for the past year that I really began to realize my distaste for it. What certainly doesn’t help is the fact that I have absolutely no idea what’s going on for 90% of the game, and no one will bother explaining anything to me. That’s right: while you’re busy yelling all the plays and penalties along with the game, I’m looking longingly out the window and thinking of all the mimosas I could be drinking at a sidewalk cafe. Even better, when I try to relate to whatever the hell is going on in a game, I somehow turn into the afternoon entertainment, because it’s obvious how inept I am when I ask if the Atlanta team is called the Braves. Is there some sort of stupid football manual I didn’t read as a child because I was too busy doing all my homework?! I feel as if I’ve been ostracized from a bunch of experiences just because I was the kind of kid that ducked when someone threw a ball. It’s gotten to the point where I won’t even pretend to know the first thing about it, and I’ve taken to lovingly calling it the “Sportsball.”
My aversion to football isn’t just purely emotional, mind you. I dislike the vast expense of football, not to mention the toll it takes on the people involved in playing the actual game. These men have made millions of dollars beating the living daylights out of their bodies for the average Joe’s entertainment, but imagine what American society would look like if we took a fraction of the money we spend on football and put it into public education? It’s no shocker that other countries are passing us up when our values are so whacked. Also, as someone who was once an athlete (I trained an average of six hours a day for years. And yes, dance is an athletic endeavor.) in an incredibly undervalued field, I get really bothered by the amount of money spent on football. Most American Olympic athletes make almost no money for a lifetime of hard work. We parade them around as representatives of our great nation, and, in the end, they’re lucky to be sent home with an extra $10, 000 in their pockets if they win. Just some things to think about, America.
And lastly, to all the sportsball-oriented gentlemen out there, let me put it this way:
Do you like shopping for high heels? No.
Let me do my thing, and I’ll let you do yours. Thanks.