Time to hear me get ‘bitchy’.
I couldn’t be bothered to care who is playing in the superbowl or that it even occurred. If everyone at work wasn’t in such a dither I would have missed it all together. Every damn TV in the place had to be on “the game”. I absolutely detest football1. There! I said it. I’m a football-hating mother fucker. I know many of my fellow bloggers like, even love, the accursed game. Well, good for you.
It isn’t the game itself I detest but the backward mentality associated with it in this country. I’m sure if I’d grown up straight it wouldn’t have been a problem but I didn’t. And growing up in rural East Texas I got a double dose of torment. In my hometown, football was considered not only a right of passage to manhood but a weekly judgement of your emergent masculinity. Not being into football immediately earned me the various titles “fag, sissy, geek, pussy, or all of the above” on a routine basis. It didn’t matter that I excelled in track.2 Nor did my father do anything to help the situation by being an avid football lover. Well, that and he couldn’t help but remark on a regular basis about certain less popular players being queer and a detriment to the game.
So no, I don’t like football. You can keep your stick-up-your-ass game and all the juvenile behavior that come with it. I’ll stick to hockey.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled program…
2 I could run a mile in just over 5 minutes. Not the best but pretty damn good.
I only got one day off this week due to my change of schedule. I spent it playing 