Thursday, September 10, 2009
The brakes went out on my husbands car and he started to fix it yesterday. He realized that he needed a part that he didn't have after the parts place had closed. I assumed he would be right on it right after work today. I was wrong. When I asked him why he was half naked sitting next to a pile of laundry that needed to be folded, he got a big smile on his face and responded with "today is the best day of the year" and pointed at the TV. "There will always be tomorrow to fix the car, today there is football."
Five years ago I realized that this football obsession was here to stay and that I could embrace it, get divorced, or live with being a football widow for 4 to 5 months out of the year. The second two sounded like a lot of work and sadness (I'm too lazy for either). So I put on my brave panties and decided to embrace it. Now, when I go for something it's all the way, and this situation was no different. I joined 2 fantasy football leagues that year. One was a random one that I found on a sports website. I joined that one because I didn't know anyone on it and it was a good place for me to really try things out and learn for myself how to play. The other league was made up of the groomsmen from our wedding and a few other guys that my husband has been playing with for years... and oh, did I mention that my husband was also on the league? I don't know if he was happy, maybe a little turned on, or utterly scared that I was a team owner on his league, but I will never forget his face when I told him. It was a cross between ready to puke and surprise.
I took first place in his league that year... and the crowd stands to do the wave. He didn't think that me beating him was cool (probably his worst fear come true) but he told me that I had never done anything that had meant more to him. I was a little offended since by this point I had planned a wedding, had 2 kids with him, and given up my career to play into his June Cleaver fantasies. He explained that the fact that I had taken so much interest in something that was that important to him was an act of my love for him. I still think he was being a little mellow dramatic, but it was true.
I gave up doing things on Sundays (sometimes even church) to wear my Seahawk colors, drink beer, and eat chips. I gave up talking to my husband about preschools and play dates for looooong conversations about about the importance of running backs and a good QB, WR combo for fantasy teams. What did I get out of all of this crazy town football loving maham? A better marriage. A better friend. Great communication.