I'm a football girl. Sometimes I yell louder than my husband when watching a game. I really never had a choice in this matter though.
During most of my childhood, our family had one television. Said television was tuned in to Green Bay Packers football every Sunday without fail, and Sundays when my mother was at work meant football ALL day. I suppose I spent perhaps my first ten years hating Sundays, pouting and scowling in objection, and eventually retreating to my bedroom to find something else to do when my efforts failed.
Somewhere along the line, I caved and started to watch and listen. I became one of very few little girls who knew full well what a first down was and knew the difference between a tackle and a sack. I began to ask Dad questions during the game, and he explained it all. I knew that the coming of Fall signified the coming of the football season, and I looked forward to it eagerly.
Sundays during the off-season meant watching reruns of Gunsmoke, so can you really blame a girl?
My favorite person to watch the game with to this day is still my dad. He's hilarious, entertaining, and continues to enlighten me with little tidbits about the game that I have yet to learn. And he's always right. Nobody knows a horse-shit call like my dad.
This season I'm thrilled to be going to my second live Packers game with some girlfriends. Apparently they caved somewhere along the line too and became football girls, so we get along well. I can't wait to be there on the sidelines cheering on my favorite team.