I love college football. You can go to the games for relatively cheap, sit with the band, heckle the cheerleaders, and sneak in the beer of your choice. The players are still lean and hungry, trying to get noticed, trying to keep their scholarships. The games are not televised as much, so less commercial breaks, which means that I don't have to devote an entire evening to watching a bunch of yahoos run around fighting over the same two yards for half an hour of my life that actually only took three minutes on the clock.
Which brings me to the game I'm watching now. Seahawks vs. Redskins.
I live with two men. My husband is from Washington D.C. and our housemate is from Seattle, making it impossible for me to change the channel for more than three minutes. And every time the Redskins score, my husband dances around the house, singing the fight song.
*sidebar* my husband knows more fight songs than anyone I have ever met in my entire life. When we drove through Princeton, he stopped at the corner and sang the Princeton fight song.
So here we are, in the fourth quarter, the clock stopped at 11:51, 50, 49, 48...and I will be held hostage for at least the next eleven and a half minutes of football time, probably another thirty minutes in real time, and all I can think is, "why did I ever leave a university that had a football team that played down the street at the stadium?"
sigh
