Sports Fan

I have never really been a sports fan.

I guess if I'm being honest, it's probably because I am no where near being even the tiniest bit athletic, and I am a walking definition of clumsy, klutzy, and accident-prone. In the last two weeks alone, I have pinched my pinky between the refrigerator and freezer doors, burned another finger on my straightener (in the past I've also burned my foot and stomach with that thing), stubbed my on my dog (no joke, seriously, it hurt), and fell into a wall (while walking - no one was near me, and I didn't trip.walking in a straight line is not a talent of mine). So giving me a ball, any sort of other sports equipment, and surrounding me with other people running at me or near me spells nothing but disaster.

My dad has always been an avid sports fan. I have some female friends who love watching sports because it was always on at their house. Not me, I went in the opposite direction. He had no problem taking the remote out of my hand and flipping it to whatever game that was on. What was even worse was having to listen to it on the radio in the car. Oh my goodness, that is just painful. Watching it is bad enough. Listening? Having to just listen? At least if it's on TV I can pick apart their uniforms and decide which team I want to win based on their colors!

I was bound and determined to marry a man who didn't like sports, or at least didn't like watching them on TV. I knew they existed - my brother was one. But when you're all starry-eyed and in love and getting to go on fun dates you tend to live in a world where sports don't even exist. At least, that was the case for me, until I went over to his house and spent time with his family. I knew I was in big trouble when a game was on and his mom yelled more at the TV then his dad. He actually knew there were women who liked this stuff! And he probably expected to find one!

I quickly realized that his family time was sports time, which equaled nap time for me. I slept at a lot at his parent's home, which didn't score me any points! (Ha ha! Get it? Score me any points?! C'mon, that was good!) But at least I was learning to cope with it. Then one day he popped the big question and I said yes. Funny how you can't picture a Sunday afternoon of football when there's all these sparkly diamonds and a cute guy on his knee professing his undying love for you.

Then there was all the wedding planning and excitement and house hunting and walking down the aisle in a pretty white dress on a summer day. Football was furthest thing from my mind in those blissful first months of married life. Then September rolled around and reality set in. He still liked football. One game a week - I figured I handle that for my new husband. But I soon learned it's not one game a week. It's a whole day. An entire day dedicated to airing game after game after game. And there's not just professional. There's college. And apparently, college football is important too. Important enough to take up all of Saturday. I could really loathe something that ruined every weekend for months. Would that qualify as grounds for an annulment?

But somehow, two and a half years later, I found myself this past Sunday night watching anxiously as "our" team played their biggest rival. I actually sacrificed sleep and stayed up until midnight, not caring that I had to get up at six the next morning. My hands even went up in the air in excitement when they scored. Never, ever, in a million years would I have guessed that one day I'd find myself enjoying a football game.

I guess it's true what they say. The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Emily