Fake It Til You Make It

By all standards, I'm not a huge football fan.  I usually can't tell you who plays for which team, I don't fully understand the game, and I often confuse college teams with NFL teams, as in "So the Ducks are playing the Colts today, right?"

But I like it.  I like the sound of a game filling up my house on a Saturday morning; I like that my kid loves to play it and that I get to stand out in the cold and cheer him on.  I watch a lot on tv these days, and I've been to plenty of games in my time. Of course, most of these were in college at the U of O, and, if I remember correctly, that was more about who had the best tailgater in the parking lot, and less about what was happening inside the stadium. Still. I was there. Sporting logo gear and all.

I do know that the Seahawks are "my team" and that, being an Oregon Duck, I should be setting aside a few hours tomorrow night for wings and beer.  I'm not entirely sure why - I mean, I know they're playing a championship game, but I couldn't tell you if it was the championship between college teams in Oregon or between all the football teams in the country.  Or some contest in between.  I just know that it's supposed to be a great game, and I'm going to watch it.

Yesterday, as the Hawks gave the Saints a little southern ass-whoopin' of their own, (and yes, I can say "Hawks" because they're my team, remember?)  my son Matt came in and said to me,

"You seem so....involved... in this game."  I felt a little silly then.  Honestly, I had no idea what was going on, in terms of plays and stats and penalties and timeouts.  I just knew that we were playing a game we shouldn't have even made it to, (although I can't explain that either) and we were winning! Of course I was involved!

Who can deny that kind of energy, even if you can't tell the difference between a quarterback and a tight end, unless you've got a clear shot of the number on the back of the jersey to tell you it's Hasselbeck?

Not me.

I get all caught up in the glory of the game and I'm hootin' and hollerin' and posting scores on Facebook with the best of them.  Sometimes I wish I knew more, so I could hoot and holler intelligent things, like John does.  He shouts advice at the players, and I have no doubt that it's good advice.  Someday, after I get through Football for Dummies, I'll be able to do the same.

For now, I'm just making noise and having fun.

My parents house in Arizona - they're Ducks by Tuition