February 01, 2009

Super Foot Balls

If you are like me and you don’t understand football and you don’t care to understand football, I am delighted to announce I have a solution! You can join the fun without caring a jot or learning a single fact about the game. 
Until recently my exposure was limited to walking in on my father transfixed by his TV.  Usually I was shushed out of the room. On rare occasions he attempted to enlighten me.

?Keep your eyes on the quarterback!? he?d say.
?He?s the one with the ball,? Dad would say.

I could never pick out this ?quarterback?, or the ball. All I saw was opposing line-ups of obese squatting hulks. After a spate of yelling in un-crackable codes the lunks crashed into each other. Unless a player sprints free for a second or two, only to be leapt upon by a pile of beef-boys.

?Extraordinary athletes,? Dad spoke directly to the television imparting advice and suggestions.

Until an unfortunate sod made a bad play, and then he would lash admonishments, ?schmuck,? he?d mutter.

In later years, to appease boyfriends, I struggled to comprehend the rules. I soon tired of hearing about sacks and carries. I couldn?t cotton to the whys behind so many time-outs, and penalties. I could barely suppress laughing at the deadly earnest umpires heavy-breathing into whistles, childishly waving flags, or making crazy arm gestures like traffic cops on crack.  I found it massively dull. I gave up and resorted to making plans of my own for Sunday afternoons and Monday nights.

Lucky for me one boyfriend took me to see a real live football game in Gadsden, Alabama and at last I found a way in.

Here is some amazing news! Not all football players are enormous screen-filling thugs.  Turns out many of them are awesomely sexy.

Repeat after me, ?objectify and deconstruct?, until all you see are the mesmerizingly perfect muscles, as beautiful as any museum quality statuary. Closely observe the graceful kickers with their entire head-to-toe lean toned package. Sorry to be superficial, sexist and demeaning. I?m told these footballers? some of them?have terrific chess brains. They mastermind plays quick as whips to fake out foes. And I?m willing to believe this is true. But I really don?t give a toss. I can, however, give the appearance of appreciating the game, so long as I?m near a box of Kleenex to dab away any inadvertent drooling.

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