I’ve always had a healthy interest in sports. Mostly because sports involve men and I’ve always had a healthy interest in them. So, for instance, when I was divorced and lying around on the couch all weekend while my daughter was off visiting her father, I would watch rivers of baseball. The guys were all super cute plus a guy that I’d crushed on in high school got traded from the St. Louis Cardinals to the Milwaukee Brewers . He was the catcher. Except maybe for the pitcher (and they can change a lot during a game), the camera spends more time on the catcher than any other player, specifically the catcher’s backside. Not that that is germane in any way, it’s just by way of offering up my sports-watching cred.
Anyway, I also liked football because I’d grown up with the drone of Sunday football in the background, the soundtrack of the Detroit Lions purring in the living room. I liked the atmosphere of football watching, the cigar smoke and the suspension of regular conversation. But my football knowledge began and ended with a few characters like Night Train Lane, possibly the best sports name ever in the universe, and Bart Starr, which almost seems like a screen name it’s so perfect like Greer Garson or Marilyn Monroe.
Anyway, this appreciation for men and sports or men in sports still only made me an intermittent, semi-bored fan. I never acquired any real knowledge and if someone offered an alternative to watching baseball or listening to the drone, I was all over it.
Then I got married.
And what so often happens when one gets married, one spouse’s thing becomes the other spouse’s thing. Mostly, in my observation, it seems like the husband’s thing becomes the couple’s thing. Nowhere is this truer than in professional sports where, even if she initially eschews team t-shirts and insignia earrings, she will eventually develop a wardrobe of these things. When she becomes fully immersed, it will seem unacceptable to go to a sporting event without proper team attire. She won’t accept her husband’s extra t-shirt, size XL, that he cast off in favor of a new model because it isn’t cut properly for a woman. Then, assuming she continues her trip around the bend, she will need team attire in pink. What this represents is unclear since the pink often clashes with the actual team colors and is increasingly the target of anti-pink proselytizers with whom the woman would otherwise identify.
You ask how I know these things and I’ll just say this. I don’t have team earrings.