Pumpkin spice flavor everything is splashing up on a menu near you. Scarves, in all their cotton glory, are bursting to come out of hibernation. And another telltale fall kickoff has, well, kicked off. The white noise of the crowd, the faint sound of plays being called, and the commentary of the announcers play-by-play playback is the sound of autumn in my mind.
My understanding of the game has come far. Case and point – at my first live college game I asked my roommate (a certified football expert who can name every Heisman winner, like, ever) where the yellow line was. You know, the one that shows how far the ball has to go.
Apparently that line is only on TV. Mind blown.
Tiffany educated me well over the following few years (we like Peyton better than Eli) and I grew to love the Saturday soundtrack of games on TV – and the tailgaters camped in the lot behind our apartment building.
Kevin played football through middle school and high school (much to his parents dismay – they were certain it was a 8th grade phase that would pass) and he has coached on various levels since then. He adores the sport.
He, like Tiff, is a patient teacher. Each year he explains yet again what it means to be offsides and the intricacies of forward lateral passes. And what the tight end does exactly – I can never remember. Probably because I’m too busy giggling whenever anyone says ‘tight end.’
Now I follow the game pretty well and generally know what is going on, and sometimes I’ll say things like, “False start,” before the ref even blows the whistle, and Kevin will look at me with pride and adoration in his eyes. And I think to myself, “Yeah, I’m a cool wife.”
But for the majority, my contributions to dialogue when we watch football are gems such as these:
(To the TV) Ooo, don’t hurt Peyton! (To Kevin) It should be against the rules for them to tackle Peyton. They should just just play touch.
Eww, his beard is gross.
He has grass stuck in his helmet! Why doesn’t he clean it out? Doesn’t it obstruct his view?
Let’s raise a kicker! (The kicker is always my favorite – games are won and lost by kickers – and it’s my dream to have a kicker son. Also, neither Kevin or I have the brawny build or height to really equip our offspring for any other position.)
Why would a player want to have such long hair? It’ll just get pulled and caught in pileups.
Do you follow football? If so, who is your team (college or pro)? What’s your favorite sport to watch?