I grew up in a football-loving household. And I’m not just talking about the men. My mother whooped and hollered right along with my dad–even louder. It was the perfect training ground for my future role as wife to a Cheese-headed Packer Backer.
I have often heard women complain about their husbands’ fascinations with sports, and it’s not that I’m unsympathetic. Pete likes every sport there is, which mean there is always something to watch on ESPN. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but hockey season, basketball season, baseball season, and football season overlap. And every couple of years, they throw the Olympics in there for good measure. I admit I’ve been frustrated at times when Pete’s attention is so thoroughly engulfed by watching grown men fight over some ball (or puck).
But I also admit that I cringe when I hear wives discuss their mates’ interest in sports as if it were a character flaw. I don’t recall ever hearing men stand around and discuss their wives’ love for scrapbooking as if it were something to be concerned about. It’s quite simple: they have fun watching sports. It makes them happy.
Instead of fighting the sports fanaticism, or going off somewhere to pout about it, I jump right in. In fact, I have been known to thoroughly embarrass my daughters when they have friends over on Sunday afternoons. Particularly when one of my fantasy players catches a long pass. Let’s just say I could give my mom a run for her money in the hollering department.
If you just cannot fathom the idea of trying to understand the intricacies of blitzes, screen passes, laterals, turnovers, and the tricky strategics of “going for two,” that’s okay, too. (In fact, some husbands would rather not sit there and explain it to you. Have I told you lately that Pete and I are a perfect match?) If you don’t want to join in, just find something else to do. Scrapbooking comes to mind.
Enjoying sports with my husband has worked for me for fifteen years now. Head over to Rocks in My Dryer to see what works for Shannon!