![]() His ultra-low appraisal of your comprehension initially irritates you, but he’s actually right. When the game starts, he explains to you what’s happening in a loving, yet patronizing inflection, as if he’s teaching you how to read.Įxample: “ That’s a pass in-ter-cep-tion!” You have no idea what’s happening (nor do you care). I fully support and admire my sports-loving female counterparts, but I’ll conveniently cite liberal feminism on this one I would 300 percent rather get a manicure than pretend to care about covering the spread when “covering the spread” does not refer to manning the food table.įor better or for worse, here is what happens when you lie to yourself, and to your significant other, about being “perfectly happy” to watch football on Sunday: 1. Some ladies take the optimistic route and try to join the fun - if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?īut soon, the mistress’ shadow will pervade your summer high and deflate any modicum of excitement you previously held for boots season, chunky sweaters or pumpkin spice lattes.īasic generalizations aside, when it comes to sports and my stereotypically feminine resistance to it, I’m unapologetic - and I know I’m not alone. To the chagrin of uninterested girlfriends all across America, NFL RedZone (or what I warmly refer to as “the perennial mistress”) has re-anchored its roots in relationships for the rest of the year, and then some.
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