I experienced a bizarre internal event at the end of football season this year. I became a football fan.
Through the years I occasionally watched a football game with long arid periods between those occasions.
When I was in college at the University of Washington, I went to the games and followed the season.
In my sophomore year the quarterback was my biology lab partner. We shared a moment where we both jumped and screamed —okay I will give him the benefit of the doubt that he just yelled—-when the frog we were dissecting rose from the dead. That’s a long ago story back when the world was flat.
Neither my sons or my husband had the slightest interest in football. So this supported my non-watching days.
Despite being invited to football game watching parties, I never attended. Weekend time for a working woman is crowded—no more like overflowing with ‘choices’ of how to spend the time. However two games back I realized I was being a little too task oriented—maybe bordering on boring— so I accepted an invitation. Guess What! I had an enjoyment BURST. Surprised the heck out of me.
Sooooo my friends since I live in Seahawks country, my post is unashamedly one sided.