Or it will be, officially, in a few weeks. I live for football season. While it is bittersweet--football means the end of summer, and thus, the beginning of a new school year--there's nothing like watching my teams on the gridiron again.
Nebraska Cornhuskers. New Orleans Saints. On Saturday I bleed scarlet and cream with my Nebraska family and friends. On Sunday, my husband and I join (albeit remotely right now) the black and gold Who Dat Nation. I watch pre-game shows. Postgame. (Who the heck decided it's a good idea to interview coaches as they're running off the field at halftime, by the way? Ridiculous.) I yell at the tv, and though I've never thrown anything, I have been known to swear. Loudly. I tweet with fellow Saints fans during the game. I read stats and watch interviews during the week. I might be obsessed--ok, I am.
Oh, I'm female? I can't really know about a sport I haven't played? Sorry, that argument doesn't hold water anymore. Women make up almost 50% of the NFL's viewership right now, and I can tell you, those women are watching for the game, not for the player with the best tight end. Especially the Who Dat Divas. You don't mess with those women--they know their football! (The same can be said of women Husker fans--we've been raised on it!)
So, if I bow out of something this fall, it's nothing personal. I have a game to watch. You're always welcome to join me--but you've been warned!
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