I Got Out [of that game] For a Reason

Last Sunday was SuperBowl Sunday. (Someday I'll have to write a blog post about SuperCute Sunday. Both are high-stakes, go-win-or-go-home outings...or so I've been told.)

I think everyone in the city I live in watched the game. I heard on the radio last week that the average person consumes 2,400 calories during the SuperBowl. My jaw dropped. I'm pretty sure that's more calories than I usually eat in an entire day. I guess if you just absentmindedly chow down on seven-layer dip all night, things can add up pretty quickly.

Let me back up by saying that I used to really like college football. I watched the games almost every week, and felt deprived when I couldn't. I knew all the players' names of "my team." I knew how tall they were, how much they weighed, where they were from, how many years of eligibility they had left, what position they played, and all sorts of other statistics. I was slightly obsessed.

Then, one day, I realized that there were many glorious Saturdays that were entirely taken up by just sitting around watching a bunch of guys with future knee, back, and concussion problems play a game that I needed announcers to help me figure out what was happening -- even though I knew the rules -- because in the end, it just was a huge pile of people at the end of every thirty seconds or so. The thing was, there were just bits and spurts of action, which was really annoying. (This, from the person who loves baseball!)

Anyway, last year, Seahawk Fever started rising. #BeastMode kicked in, as did Legion of Boom. (Who comes up with these names, anyway?) This may be the only town where there are equal amounts of offensive and defensive jerseys, though. But everywhere I went, it was neon green and navy blue, neon green and navy blue. EVERYWHERE!

I admit, I caught a small case of the dreaded virus. I blame it on my coworker, who exposed me due to the fact that he has season tickets and always comes in hoarse on Monday mornings due to cheering his heart out. I was curious, and I invested enough to know what #beastmode and LOB are. I know a few stats now. I even watched the NFC game, after the fact. If there was ever a game to make you say, "It's not over til it's over," that was the game.

Sometimes, you just "feel" it. It's like your team is in a groove, and although you're tense, you just know in your bones that they're going to pull it out. I had invested, but the day of the SuperBowl, I just had a feeling that there would be no RePete. I watched the game, and was thinking, "noooo, don't do it. Don't dooooo it! Don't fall apart!" It was one of those things where you cover your eyes and then peek anyway even though you know the bad guy is coming and is going to kill the person they were stalking in the mirror.

So, I'm here to say this: I got out of the football-watching game for a reason. I let myself be suckered back in for a little while, but it's totally not worth it. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: The pain of watching your team lose is so, so much harder than the happy of seeing your team win. For some reason, for me, the emotion is amplified with football. Don't get me wrong, I was totally on the edge of my seat when my Giants were playing in this last World Series (as you know), but the emotional roller coaster is a lot bigger with football.

So, from now on, I am going to do my best to bow out of the football watching game. For good.