tip: root for team

It’s the first game in a long time that I feel free to sit back, relax, and enjoy a Saturday evening. We’re firing on all 4 cylinders. We’re tackling like men. We’re not behaving like remote control voodoo zombies on offense. I’m proud of us. Notice how I have identified myself with my champions. I am one of them, an unseen force fueling the team on to grid iron glory. If I go to the bathroom on third down, they will turn the ball over. They need my psychic connection. They need my insults thrown at the opponents. They need us to break out in a round of spasmatic high fives after every touch down. They are counting on this from all the fandom.

Anyone not acquainted with the joys, rituals, and heart burn of college football is really missing out on something special. Especially women, this doesn’t have to be a dude thing. College football is better than any soap opera I’ve ever seen. Team loyalties are like feudal alligences. Colors fly like banners, mascots strut like coats of arms. The arena roars with blood hungry spectators. Bands and fight songs, roasting meat and half clad women: man this is the closest thing to barbarian left in our society. Smashing into each other with brute force, running down the field with zazz and speed. Spectacle and drama waiting to unfold every time the ball is snapped. More chicks should dig football. But I digress.

Yeah I like these blow out 28-0 at halftime rarities. In the SEC they come few and far between. They’re very good for my blood pressure. Usually my gut is twisted into knots, I’m bellowing like a crazed pirate, and my heart rate is concerning, to say the least.

I watch and I will them to win. My emotional engagement is crucial to their victory. Today they don’t seem to need me as much, so I can amp down ever so slightly. I’ll be back next week to do my part, carry the flame, scream until I have an aneurysm, what have you.

Go team!



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