By Paula Damon
“If a man watches three football games in a row, he should be declared legally dead.” Erma Bombeck, columnist
“Are you going to watch the game,” my husband asked as he eagerly settled on the couch to watch his Cleveland Browns on TV.
“I don’t think so,” I replied but was thinking, Are you kidding me?
Well into the first quarter, I stole a few glances of the game, while passing through the living room, of course, and was quickly reminded of the many reasons why I do not like football.
First of all, professional football lacks precision. It is a very sloppy game among grunting, sweating oversized men in tight pants simultaneously scurrying away from each other, running toward each other, crashing into each other and toppling all over each other.
Throughout the eternally long three-hour broadcast, the same dull routine replays over and over again, from one end zone to the other, back and forth, back and forth. Ugh!
Watching two opposing teams repeatedly huddle, line up, run, scramble, pass, tackle and mostly fall down at the end of each play does absolutely nothing for me. It doesn’t matter which league they’re in – AFL or NFL – it’s the same boring game to me.
And then there’s the drone of commentators – OMG! Spewing monotonous dribble has to be a top qualification for that job. They also do a lot of predicting what coaches and players will do next, which to me is nothing more than a mind-numbing exercise in blowing hot air.
Oh, don’t get me started on the pay scale for professional football players. Have you ever seen so many people do so little and get paid so much? Well, I do suppose members of Congress have them beat in that category.
For as much brawn that exists in football, there is precious little action by bunch of overpaid brawling brutes who spend all of their time running in short spurts of energy, falling down and scrambling to their feet. Yawner!
It doesn’t matter if Payton Manning or Tim Tibow are hiking the ball, if I were to actually sit down and watch a game, I would most definitely fall asleep or, worse yet, slip into a coma.
I am not interesting in what positions players have. Offensive guard, tackle, center, quarterback, halfback, fullback, wide receiver or tight end – I can’t keep them straight. Offensive end, tackle, linebacker, corner back or safety – I don’t know who’s who. Place kicker, punter, kickoff specialist, punt returner, kick returner or gunner – they’re all are the same to me.
Whether the ball is in play or dead, I am so completely bored I can’t stand it. Passes, runs, punts and field goal attempts don’t excite me one iota.
Although, I must say that I do disagree with Phyllis Diller, who once said, “The reason why women don’t play football is they would never be caught dead wearing the same outfit in public.”
The real reason women don’t play the sport and why a majority of us really don’t care if we ever watch game is because it’s a complete waste of a perfectly good Sunday afternoon.
As far as I’m concerned, professional football is 60 minutes, not counting ads and all of that commentating, divided into four 15-minute quarters of blah, blah, blah.
Well, there’s one good thing. The opening game in the 2014 Major League Baseball season is only four months away. Yes!