It’s your fault, husband. Here’s why.
I grew up watching sports, even playing a few–poorly, I might add (Apparently, I have an “athletic build” but no hand/eye coordination.). I watched basketball in high school and remember America’s first Dream Team. I even have the jacket and the Wheaties box. Laminated. That’s right. Go MJ. Go Charles Barkley. Go Chris Mullen.
Having said that, my dad and my little brother were into football, so I watched with them. Dad followed Dallas, and my brother liked Cincinnati. Particularly Boomer Esiason. I enjoyed watching with them, but I didn’t have my own team, per say.
Fast forward about 30 years. I stopped watching all sports in my early twenties until my husband and I started following Manchester City. That introduced me to the rabbit hole of current-day sports. Yet, here I am, watching the Pittsburgh Steelers play the Las Vegas Raiders. I don’t even like these teams, but I feel compelled to watch. I like Kansas City. I’ve even bought merch. Those close to me couldn’t believe it, but it’s true. My husband–who didn’t watch football when I met him because he’s a Bengals fan–made me watch the Super Bowl a few years ago, in 2020. (Woah–Defonte Adams just scored so the Raiders are 6-0. And there’s the field goal!) Tom Brady was playing. Again. I just couldn’t bring myself to root for him because I knew how many people already were. Well, it turned out Tampa Bay was playing Kansas City.
That’s when I met Mahomes. I mean, not literally, obviously. But he was intriguing as a quarterback. His moves really were magic! They still are! Of course, he’s easy on the eyes, so that helps. A few seasons later–along with multiple t-shirts, hoodies, and even a Patrick Mahomes Funkopop (whose hair I rub for good luck during games)–I’m sold. My husband thinks it’s funny. And weird. And scary.
Why scary? Because I’m watching more football than he is. Today, he even told me to get out of the kitchen while he did the dishes so I could watch football like other wives do. He’s so cute and funny that way.
Back to the game at hand. I couldn’t watch Kansas City play Chicago because my daughter wanted to go to Soaky Mountain for her birthday. She can do that because she is more important than football. Always. But I kept up with the score, naturally. KC won–by a lot.
But back to Pittsburgh, who just scored a touchdown. Not that I really care about either them. I don’t want the Raiders to win because they are natural-born rivals with KC, but I’m from West Virginia, which means it has been ingrained in me to dislike Pitt. I don’t want either team to win. So why am I watching? Because I’ve become obsessed with football.
The Pondering Pot 