Showing posts with label football. Show all posts
Showing posts with label football. Show all posts

Monday, February 5, 2018

It. Is. Finished. #ISaidWhatISaid #NoKapNoNFL

Had I known that Superbowl LI (51) was going to be the last football game I watched, I would have spent the day watching that (because, superbowl party) and  also replaying the Cowboys win over the 40-whiners at Levi Stadium. I was in the stands that day, in the sea of blue fans making waves over the red and gold. Because, America’s Team. I would have enjoyed that game in HD. I would have also really enjoyed seeing Colin Kaepernick kneel in HD too. Because poetic justice is more than just a movie.

I survived an entire football season, without watching a single game. I know that there are those of you who probably believe I capitalized on those “accidental” views. You know, walking into a restaurant, and looking towards the bar seeing the game on. Visiting a friend on football day (basically, Sunday – Monday – Thursday), as they are glued to the surround sound and replays. Watching some of my favorite sports shows (Highly Questionable, Around the Horn, Pardon the Interruption) and getting that itch to just click over to the game, just for a few minutes, because I just want to confirm who I agree with, even though I usually agree with Bomani anyway. But, confirmation.

None of it. I did not exploit not one of those instances or any others. I actually walked right out of some of the restaurants and friend’s homes. I said what I said. No Kap. No NFL. Nope. 

My life was football from August to January. Sure football went into February, but by January, I was winding down and accepting that I would have to wait another six months to live again. I had to accept some ugly truths (also a movie) about myself:
1. Football is my only hobby from August to January. Sure, I do things, but it’s scheduled around football season. And, if I have something planned with you and someone invites me to something football related, I may or may not remember to inform you that I am no longer coming. You’re probably texting me asking if I am on the way as I’m raising a glass of beer that NaShaun/KRD is nowhere to finish – so I’m texting him/them about the beer. Not you.  
2. I’m super sociable because I can open conversations with football. Did you see the game? Are you going to the game? Who did you put into the game #FantasyFootball? Without football, I have nothing to contribute to a conversation. What is there to talk about in the world besides football?  
3. People who go to Superbowl Parties just for the food, ‘fun’, and commercials are awful people. It’s like bringing a bottle of wine to a baby shower and all the other attendees are pregnant. Like, why are you even here? Nobody is interested in what you have (well, interested maybe) but that’s not what this party is all about. The most interesting thing here is the game, not why you don’t watch football. Who sent you?
I have loved football my whole life, just like the Pearson kids. It was Daddie’s thing that became my thing, then this beautiful thing we shared. We could sit for hours watching games. Then watching commentators talk about the games. And critiquing everything because we know more than every NFL referee, ever. Without ever being trained, we are literally always right.

I didn’t wear a single NFL related shirt in my collection. Even packed away the Cowboy earbuds from Alicia MaKeykey – a surprise birthday present from an admitted Giants fan. I will never understand how we make it work. Hell, we talked trash this football season and I hadn’t watched a single game. I kept the Cowboy flip flops in the rotation because I refuse to protest comfort, they were a gift from my Naija sister-friend, and this pedicure is gonna get these stars because Lord knows I need it. All the rest of it though, new shirts from the Dallas Pro Shop and a never worn necklace, all of it packed away in a plastic tub, in the closet.

I had to dig into the back of the closet for this Superbowl weekend, because some friends have 2 – for – 1 events that include birthday parties. As much as I knew I would actively avoid the game, I didn’t want to be a complete distraction. I wanted to be able to hide in plain sight, like the Assassins. For people to be able to say they saw me, when in reality, I had been in a corner with my purple journal and green pen, writing to save my life.

When I got dressed though, I forgot I even had it packed. I wore an army green “Nah.” shirt, a present day interpretation of Rosa Park’s fateful protest because she was sick of Jim Crow’s sh!t. Without intentionally trying, I stood out like a sore thumb. Are you watching the game? Nah. I haven’t watched any football this season. Before I even realized what I was saying, I was saying it with my chest. I will refresh your drink. Help you use this bougie ass refrigerator in Pop’s house. I will wash these dishes because I don’t want to do it later. And, I’m gonna be one of those awful people who come to Superbowl parties for the birthday and the commercials. Then I am going to go upstairs, because heeeyyyy, First Wives Club is on! Why do I love this movie? I don’t know why, but I do.

A friend told me that she was proud and inspired that I was able to ‘fast from football’ as I did. She did not know anyone in her life who loved football as much as I, that was able to completely give it up. And all the other things. I didn’t just fast from football, I fasted from football related things. All of my sports shows. Many of the Happy Hour places, where everybody knew I wasn’t gonna drink all of the beer. My schedule, no matter how busy work made me, I never missed an appointment.

Sunday – Jesus & Football, all day.
Monday – Happy Hour and MNF.
Tuesday – Sports Shows and Fantasy Football.
Wednesday – Sports Shows and Fantasy Football.
Thursday – Happy Hour and TNF.
Friday – College Football.
Saturday – College Football.

…because there is enough football to do it every day. But when you have a strong moral code like mine (she says) you will fill your days with other things than, let’s say, our morally ambiguous friend (most Giants fans totes are) at the table that night. Then she asked the question that everyone is asking us protesters, are you going to watch next season? What if Kaepernick gets a job in the NFL? Are you waiting for that?

kaepernick7.com/million-dollar-pledge/
Answer: It’s past whether or not Kaepernick gets a job. He did what he was supposed to do. He made us think about the state of the football union and decide for ourselves, just like he will decide for himself. Football seems to be the thing Kaepernick is passionate about. Just like my being petty. If he wants to play football and goes back, I hope he makes it to Canton one day. I will definitely watch that Hall of Fame speech.

For me and my house? (this is still just me) I don’t know. I still have my football allies and antagonists. I am a Cowboy fan because I am from the republic of Texas and am fiercely loyal, but not loyal enough to side with Jerry Jones. He has race issues he needs checked. I am glad that the Patriots lost, but I am not happy that the Eagles won. And dammit, why did the Giants have to make that dirty dancing commercial? Now I can’t have the time of my life anymore. See how they ruin everything?!?! The NFC East is just too big a burden to carry, saints.

The problem? There is no untelling (that’s a book). I have sight beyond sight now (that’s a cartoon). Whether or not Kaepernick makes his mark in the NFL, I have planted my knee in the gridiron already. Like I said before, I always knew the NFL was problematic. I mean, even if you didn’t know, you have to wonder why there are so many Cowboy fans for summa'yall to hate all over the world? Sure, there are bandwagons, but it’s more than that. If you dig deep into the intersections of race and professional athletics, you’ll find the Dodgers there and a whole host of other skeletons too. The NFL is not going to change.

I changed though. Literally took six months to do it, but the job is done. I just wish that damn Patriots vs. Falcons game wasn’t my last view of something I loved so much. All of the amazing games I have seen in my lifetime, and I am left with “Eh…”

But that’s the way of those things we loved so much, isn’t it? We knowth not the day, or the time. We aren’t ready. But we figure it out eventually.

Seeing that people are talking about a baseball strike, my strong moral code is shaky. Life is still asking too much of me. If I have to one day give up basketball, make sure my room in Arkham is padded.

Please.

Monday, September 15, 2014

The Curious Case of Pam & Lou

…and who would have guessed it. Something I love brought me back to something I love. Football brought me back to writing. Sport reminded me of my purpose. Because someone I’m so used to seeing on the sideline won’t be there much longer.

It's messed up that Black folks age so badly... #YeaTHAT
But there is someone who will still be there. Lou Holtz. How. Old. Is. Lou? Forget his age. How old are his glasses? They got at least about 10 years on me. OMG! I am convinced that Lou was on College Gameday before I was born. And not that he just started around that time, but he had a pretty solid career by my birth. His hatin-on-the-Pac-12 butt is old enough to have children, who could have had children that could be the parents of the other people sitting alongside him. With years to spare. He was hating on the Pac 12 when the first named it Pac 10. 
#ImNotSaltyAboutIt #OkayASmidgeOfSaltiness #WhyWontHeAcceptThePac10-12Greatness?

And if the Lord allows that man another year of life, he’ll be hatin on College Gameday next football season. …and if the Lord allows Pam Oliver another year of life, she’ll be developing other sports stories on the #2 network, while some other woman is giving me the sideline injury report. Meh.

Pam Oliver revealed to us how she was wounded. I am humbled by her honesty and impressed by her resolve to be unapologetically human, despite the humiliation of it all. Wounded, though, being my way of internalizing this thing that did not happen to me directly. Wounded as in this thing that will impact me next year when I don’t see a woman I once believed I could be, talking to those beautiful men in uniform. #CallMeAntonioGates #ErinIsMarried #DontListenToHer #SheIsAGroupie #ImKindaAGroupieTooButILoveYou

The explanation is what’s worse. That’s what I’m having the most trouble with. going in a different direction, not a demotion, promotion (repurposing) to a new role…all of those things and etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Now I do believe that there is a natural evolution to these types of things. I have been asked to perform tasks that I did not see the benefit in; tasks that eventually grew me. I have let go of positions and roles I thought were exactly what I wanted, until I experienced something new. So, this in and of itself is not a bad thing. Bad? No. Flawed? Yup.

I’ve got a consolation prize of though. A younger, paler version of what I thought I would be. *le sigh* …and Lou. He’ll be there still too. I know exactly how Harpo's new girlfriend felt #PreSlap. This here was our football sideline… *le sigh*

Do I feel wronged by it? Absolutely. As a Black woman who watches football from Thursday night to Monday night, I feel some kind of way about the game I came to love at such an early age changing on me without my permission. She has been on the sideline almost my entire football loving life…and doesn’t look like it! I hadn’t realized there had been damn near 20 years of me and Pam, until I had to realize there might only be 19 years of me and Pam. Nobody asked me how I felt about it. No one consulted me about viable options for Pam’s position #ICouldaBeenGreatYo. Nope. None of that.

I am not going to stop watching football. With all that’s happening with football, I might not have to stop watching it. The League may crumble under the pressure of lawsuits, bad behavior, terrible press conferences #WeKnowYouSawTheVideoHomey #YouAintGotToLieRoger and horrible PR… 
#TheyNeedOliviaPopeOnRetainer #IMeanSheIsFreeRightNow #TheSeasonHasntStartedBackYet #WhereAreMyWineGlasses

This does leave me with a lingering thought. The one that brought me back to my laptop as Sunday Night Football serenades me. Why is it that women have an age limit in football, and men don’t seem to have one? Men can be associated with the game forever. Retire, un-retire, retire again, play, coach, commentate, manage and own a team. Women can bring you the news, but once their football clock beings to tick they get repurposed to #2.

…and then there’s the numbers. Pam received this news at the end of her 19th season behind the sideline microphone. So much of football is about numbers. Stats, records, yardage after the catch, tenure behind the line of scrimmage and points scored. Football analysts spend their time and abilities to manipulate numbers to give us this information in real time. You think they don’t know how many years Brett Farve played? Or times he retired? How many interceptions Deon Sanders got in his tenure? Or the number of them that could have been gifted by Tony Romo if Deon (or Leon Sandcastle) was in the league today? They know.

I believe in my heart of hearts, that when they made that trip to Atlanta to deliver the news to her, they knew she was on year 19. As a gesture of gratitude, or recognition for her contribution to the game, could they have not, in that conversation given her year 20? Why did she have to request it?

There was already the insult. The injury/the wound is her having to report it. #SheIsGoodAtWhatSheDoes #TheConsummateProfessional #andSheHellaClassy