It’s football season! Excitement is in the air. Even the weather is excited, with a brisk, cool wind.  Not so surprising for those of you in the north, but for those of us in the south, this is huge. 

I can feel the excitement around our house too.  Hubby is a huge football fan.  He doesn’t even need an allegiance or tie to a team for him to be mesmerized by the game.  Many wives hate this time of year, but I actually enjoy it.  While I love watching my Aggies or even my high school team, it’s not the football that I’m excited about.  I’m pumped because during football season all of our ironing gets done – on a weekly basis!

Early in our marriage, Hubby told me he planned to watch football on Sundays – every Sunday.  Seeing my expression, he quickly realized the need to negotiate this time devoted to watching grown men throwing, running and tackling each other over a brown leather ball.  I mean come on; if it was a nice pair of Jimmy Choos I’m sure I would be more enthusiastic.  But not a ball.  Anyway, Hubby offered to do all of our ironing while he watches football.  Score!  Of course I agreed to this arrangement.

This doesn’t mean that I’m not interested in football.  If I can get tickets to see the Aggies, I’m there.  Same thing with my nephew’s high school team.  I’m the proud aunt and am definitely going to cheer him on.

Before I go further, let me say that Hubby and I have different reasons for attending a sporting event.  Hubby is all about the game. His rule is that we need to be there for kick-off and we need to stay until the bitter end, no matter who’s winning, and I’m usually in agreement here.  Yet there’s more to watch than the game on the field.  As a former dance team member, I’m always interested in the half-time show.  I also enjoy watching the cheerleaders with their complicated tumbling stunts. Not to mention the social aspect, but we’ll get to that in a minute.

We recently had the opportunity to see my nephew in action – football excitement at its best.  It was our first time to watch him play varsity and we couldn’t wait.  We had awesome seats in front of my sister and her hubby that were high enough to see the plays, yet low enough to feel the action.

Just after kick-off, Sis and I started talking about Nephew’s school, his game stats, etc.  We hadn’t been at the game more than five minutes when a dear friend found us in the stands.  We chatted excitedly, like old friends do, getting caught up on each other’s lives.  Periodically I would hear the crowd roar, meaning that something happened on field and I would divert my attention from my friend and Sis to cheer or sigh or whatever emotion was needed to support the team.

Hubby, in the meantime, was completely focused on the game. Occasionally he would glance over at me as if to say, “Hey, are you paying attention to your nephew?”  And finally it was half-time.  This is my super-bowl, the time when my eyes never leave the field.  I loved watching the girls dance as I pointed out to Hubby for the umpteenth time where I stood on the field when I was on the drill team.  He politely let me reminisce while he relived his glory days in the marching band.

The second half started and Hubby was in a trance, all of his attention on the game.  I decided to visit my friend in her section of the stands, so off I went.  Nephew displayed his football skills by kicking for three points and we cheered for him in between fashion discussions.  Before I knew it, the game was over.  As I reunited with Hubby, he smiled and sort of laughed.  “What?” I said, not understanding what was so amusing.  “I thought you wanted to watch our nephew,” he said.  Explaining that I did want to see Nephew play, but also see my friends, he said, “Well I certainly wouldn’t want you to be distracted by the game on the field.”

Of course I was not distracted by the game on the field. Duh!  I knew when Nephew was playing; I even knew the score from peeking at the scoreboard.  Men! They just don’t get it, do they?  There are two events happening at once: the game on the field, and the social game in the stands.

“Distracted by the game” – hmpf! Hubby just needs to learn which game to watch.