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September 30, 2005

Gone to the Dark Side

I had hoped that Bill would keep his wits about him during football season, and not fall into the same mindset as all of the other football-addled dads. Unfortunately, I overestimated the power the sport has over an otherwise rational man.

I was getting the newspaper this morning when Chatty Mom pulled into the driveway to pick up carpool.

“What’s up?” I asked, while Finn, Drew and Porter heaved themselves and their backpacks into her van.

“Yesterday was great!” she beamed. “Bert’s team finally won a game. It’s the first game we’ve won. We beat the Dolphins. I know it’s just fourth grade football, but it was so good to see all those players so happy.”

“Great,” I said, and went inside. Bill was pouring himself a cup of coffee and getting ready to leave for work.

“Chatty Mom is all excited because Bert’s team won last night,” I told him.

Bill stared at me.

“You’re kidding, right?” he asked.

“No, I don’t generally make football jokes before coffee,” I said, wiping a blob of syrup off the counter.

“You mean they beat the DOLPHINS?” Bill asked.

“I’m not sure,” I answered, getting a coffee cup from the cabinet. “I think that’s who they played. But the point is that Bert’s team got a win.”

“Whoa,” Bill said, shaking his head. “That is bad timing. The Dolphins are the best team and we play them Saturday. Now they’re gonna be really pissed off and out for blood. Finn’s team is going to have to buckle down.”

“You could look at it that way,” I said. “Or you could focus on Bert and the fact that he finally got to win a game this season.”

“Yeah,” Bill said sheepishly. “You’re right,” he said. “I was getting carried away. That’s great for Bert– he’s been playing well all season.”

“That’s better,” I said, opening the dishwasher to unload the clean dishes, satisfied that my real husband had returned.

Then Bill walked over to the TV and switched it on. “What channel is the Weather Channel?” Bill asked, holding the remote. “Maybe we’ll be rained out Saturday and the game will be postponed and the Dolphins will get over being all fired up about the loss.”

I went over to my husband and put my mouth up against his ear. He leaned in toward me, perhaps thinking I was going to kiss it.

“Earth to Bill!” I shouted. He jumped.

I slapped him on the bottom and pushed him toward the door. “Go to work!” I yelled. “Think about grownup things. Get a life. Get some priorities.”

“I’m going,” Bill protested, laughing. He got in his car and drove away.

**********************************************************************************************************

In other news, it seems that some luckless mother reached my site
by googling “washing football pants pads.” As you all know, I don’t do that.

Posted by Anne Glamore @ 12:08 pm • Football,Frolic and Detour: Sports   

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2 Responses to “Gone to the Dark Side”

  1. How funny. I just wrote about strange google searches on my site!

    You simply can’t come between a man and his sports- Just be grateful that the obsession is over your son’s team. My husband has a similar obsession with our two girls’ soccer teams. And it is an OBSESSION. But you know what? Because of this obsession, he has arranged to take off of work early for every single game, meaning I don’t have to figure out how to get two girls to three different games a week with a baby in tow.
    Meanwhile, we see these other guys who spend a lot of time shooting the bull about professional football, but never show up for their own children’s games. Disgusting.

  2. I’ve also written about weird Googles on my blog! My favorites so far are “aluminum underpants” and “the slippers are a little crappy”. Granted, I have both those phrases verbatim in various posts, but it still slays me that someone was LOOKING for them.

    Football, schmootball. I’m afraid you’re eventually going to be swallowed up by it.

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I'm Anne Glamore, wife, mother, lawyer and blogger. I have three boys, and I'm desperately trying to train them to become Southern gentlemen, but that may be an unrealistic goal. At this point I'd be ecstatic if they'd quit farting at the dinner table. If you're new here, check out the Readers' Favorite Posts below or browse through the Categories. I write about my attempts to teach the boys about peckers and sex (which we call "making googly eyes"), my struggles with hepatitis C and spine surgery, the boys' adventures with fire and pets, my mom's death from ovarian cancer, my love of cooking (with plenty of recipes) and anything else that crosses my mind. Join me on Twitter or StumbleUpon or Email me. I'm happy to speak to your group or club.

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