I’m trying not to let my husband, Fred’s, exuberance over tonight’s pending Super Bowl irritate me. The bare truth is that in the 18 years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him happier about anything. Christmas, babies being born and our wedding dim in comparison to the glorification of “The Men in the Tight Yellow Pants.”
I like football. I just don’t love it. Here in Green Bay, I am Dorothy in a foreign land, in the midst of the thousands of green and yellow outfitted munchkins and they’re all “a little muttled” by my lack of enthusiasm.
“Were you just singing in the shower? I asked yesterday, brushing my words with bitter butter, “You’re starting to get on my nerves.”
“It’s a holiday weekend!” Fred sang, merrily. He’s taking post-game Monday off.
I then spoke the unspeakable-- “It’s just a game.”
Fred’s face went white. His lower lip started quivering. Somewhere an angel fell dead. The “Packer Enthusiasm Committee” which likely governs this football-crazed city, is probably on patrol and when they sense negativity with respect to “The Pack” will drop a net on me, drag me to a tail-gate and make me do beer bongs until I paint my face and put on beads.
I have become Super Bowl Fun-Smasher #1. Remorseful, I said, “But, I’ll be making all the football food you like, though” and his lip stopped quivering.
There is a way to be part of the excitement and not actually watch the whole game--Football Food. Being a part of the “Feed-the-fans on Weekends” committee earns me three important, non-football related things:
2. A great seat bellied up to the buffet table. While everyone else is bent over and tense with expectation, I’ve got a plate of taco dip all to myself.
3. Positive Energy. Each time I offer someone a beer, they look at me like I’m Miss America. I *get* that it’s an “alcohol induced” appreciation, but I’ll take it.
Fred took our daughter, Krista, shopping yesterday for more Packer fan gear. She came home wearing a $70 glamorous jersey that has a gold, bedazzled neckline and sparkles. He has been working hard to make her a Green Bay fan because she prefers football teams that are represented by animals she likes. Colts for instance, are baby horses; lions—big fluffy cats.
She has it on again this morning.
I see I’m outnumbered. Alright, for the Super Bowl title…Go PACK GO!