By proxy of living with my darling husband, a die-hard New England sports fan, there is almost always something sports related on. Be it a game or someone talking about sports - and when baseball season is in full swing, it gets cranked up to an even higher level - Oh yes, Fantasy Baseball season is right around the corner! That’s cool – I have known this about him since the day we met and it is part of what makes Cliff so fantastically Cliff.
For many reasons, I find it to be a sweet cosmic strike that he was lucky enough to have two daughters. My girls like sports, even enjoy the frick out of many sports, both playing and watching. Sophie has been playing basketball for a few years now, and she seems to kick some butt and plays some tenacious D (I couldn’t resist). Katie is no slouch and as a family we play wiffle ball and throw a ball around and we certainly watch games in the house (remember, Cliff and the sports on the television).
But there is just some sort of genetic difference between the way girls and boys experience sports. As the Patriots game were in the final nail biting minutes last night, Sophie was making some important inquiries about the mechanics of the game, like “Daddy, how many downs are each team allowed to get? What happens if he hits this field goal? What happened during sudden death overtime?” All good questions – but her timing was amusing. To me.
My inspiration does not lie in the Patriots – although I respect the fact that it does for many people.
My inspiration is to somehow come to peace with the Super Bowl. I do not give a rats ass about football or the culmination of a sports season that I just grit my teeth and barrel through. In many ways the Super Bowl is a relief to me – it means no more football until September. I have attended far too many Super Bowl parties that I have not enjoyed – because it involves a sport and an event that I do not care about. I have lived long enough and my time is far too precious to spend it doing something that I do not care about.
I will watch every game of the World Series. I truly love basketball – the Celtics are exciting and athletic and sexy to watch. Hell, I even got all juiced up watching hockey last year. But I will not fake it for football. And just like I would not expect Cliff to spend an afternoon thrift store shopping, getting his nails done and watching a marathon of Sex in the City, happily, he does not expect me to trail after him to a Super Bowl party. We have come to an understanding.
However, Cliff does care about the Super Bowl and his team, The Patriots are playing this year. And for him – I want them to win – because I know it will make him happy.
So, I don’t know where he will watch it – but I hope he enjoys it and whoops it up every second – I will pick him up and drop him off anyplace he pleases, so he can drink and celebrate and get home safe. I will even make pigs in blankets for the occasion. As long as I don’t have to go to any Super Bowl party.
But I'll come over to watch the Celtics anytime.