I recently received a forwarded email that I actually read and enjoyed. In my snottiness and sophistication, I generally delete forwards without even reading them – so to avoid bad luck from chain letters and sappy “this is what a true friend is/pass it on so you know God loves you” junk – this one came from a reliable source: my best friend. It was a list of “Things You’ll Never Hear a Woman Say.” Being rabid sports fans, my friend and I had issues with several of these “things”:
1. “While you were in the bathroom, they went for it on fourth down and missed. If they can hold them to a field goal, they’ll still cover.”
Okay, first of all, what sports-fan-female dates or watches football with a brain-numb dope who goes to the bathroom on fourth and short when the game is on the line?!? Especially if it’s not only the game in doubt, but your gambling money. This is like those people who just HAVE to go out for Junior Mints right when the FBI agent is about to figure it all out and nab the nasty serial killer. We shouldn’t have to run a play-by-play for you if you have such moronic timing. Men, take note: draining the snake on fourth and goal is a relationship dealbreaker.
2. “It’s only third quarter; you should order a couple more pitchers.”
Oh, yeah. Who wouldn’t say this, regardless of the strength of your sports fandom? Even if you don’t care for the game (if it’s say, an NBA who’s-the-bigger-jerkoff game), boys with beer are fun-nee. They revert back to the college, Saturday afternoon tailgate, pre-football game frat mentality. You think this isn’t entertaining? Have you ever seen Animal House? There is no higher comedy factor than grown, out of shape, drunk men playing games or watching games. Hilarity ensues. And even if the team loses, they still bought the beer you are drinking, so it’s all good, baby.
3. “If we’re not going to have sex, then you have to let me watch SportsCenter.”
It’s true. I never say this. Sex must be scheduled around SportsCenter and my teams’ games, and I reserve the right to watch them during intercourse. Think about it. What’s more exciting and stimulating than watching Turco lay it out for a tremendous glove save, then Modano burning up the ice for a perfectly placed goal? When I was at Texas A&M (whoop!), we got to “mug” (make out) with our dates every time the Aggies scored. They know how to play it down in Aggieland. Hell, yeah.
I admit, in many ways I am a stereotypical woman. I take forever to get ready, I gripe about every little thing, and I always have PMS at the most inopportune times. But I’m a sports fan, and a player. Yeah, I was up every night for World Cup soccer. I listen to the early evening NHL games on my PC at work. Saturdays and Sundays you can find me at my local sports pub, soaking in football and Sam Adams.
Just like millions of other women. Bitch and moan all you like about Title 9, gentlemen, but the fairer sex is keeping our beloved sports above water. Look at spectator photos from the 50’s, and look at pics from today. Other than the obvious influence of merchandising, what’s the main difference? That’s right: boobies. And not the testicular cancer kind. Women. We love the game, baby. We play, we cheer, we trash talk, we watch the game and (hee) we gamble on the game. It’s not a boys’ club any longer. Hey, who ever said coed anything was bad?
1. “While you were in the bathroom, they went for it on fourth down and missed. If they can hold them to a field goal, they’ll still cover.”
Okay, first of all, what sports-fan-female dates or watches football with a brain-numb dope who goes to the bathroom on fourth and short when the game is on the line?!? Especially if it’s not only the game in doubt, but your gambling money. This is like those people who just HAVE to go out for Junior Mints right when the FBI agent is about to figure it all out and nab the nasty serial killer. We shouldn’t have to run a play-by-play for you if you have such moronic timing. Men, take note: draining the snake on fourth and goal is a relationship dealbreaker.
2. “It’s only third quarter; you should order a couple more pitchers.”
Oh, yeah. Who wouldn’t say this, regardless of the strength of your sports fandom? Even if you don’t care for the game (if it’s say, an NBA who’s-the-bigger-jerkoff game), boys with beer are fun-nee. They revert back to the college, Saturday afternoon tailgate, pre-football game frat mentality. You think this isn’t entertaining? Have you ever seen Animal House? There is no higher comedy factor than grown, out of shape, drunk men playing games or watching games. Hilarity ensues. And even if the team loses, they still bought the beer you are drinking, so it’s all good, baby.
3. “If we’re not going to have sex, then you have to let me watch SportsCenter.”
It’s true. I never say this. Sex must be scheduled around SportsCenter and my teams’ games, and I reserve the right to watch them during intercourse. Think about it. What’s more exciting and stimulating than watching Turco lay it out for a tremendous glove save, then Modano burning up the ice for a perfectly placed goal? When I was at Texas A&M (whoop!), we got to “mug” (make out) with our dates every time the Aggies scored. They know how to play it down in Aggieland. Hell, yeah.
I admit, in many ways I am a stereotypical woman. I take forever to get ready, I gripe about every little thing, and I always have PMS at the most inopportune times. But I’m a sports fan, and a player. Yeah, I was up every night for World Cup soccer. I listen to the early evening NHL games on my PC at work. Saturdays and Sundays you can find me at my local sports pub, soaking in football and Sam Adams.
Just like millions of other women. Bitch and moan all you like about Title 9, gentlemen, but the fairer sex is keeping our beloved sports above water. Look at spectator photos from the 50’s, and look at pics from today. Other than the obvious influence of merchandising, what’s the main difference? That’s right: boobies. And not the testicular cancer kind. Women. We love the game, baby. We play, we cheer, we trash talk, we watch the game and (hee) we gamble on the game. It’s not a boys’ club any longer. Hey, who ever said coed anything was bad?
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