Only 142 days until February 7, 2011.
What is February 7, 2011? The day after the Superbowl.
Fifteen years of marriage, and never an issue during the football season. Oh, perhaps some temper tantrums or grumpy Monday/Tuesday mornings, but nothing that didn’t wear off by afternoon (73% of all Packer fans experience bipolar disorder…85% of all statistics are fictitious…). And I like football, especially if junk food is involved…or good company…
But then I grew an adolescent football junkie. If I hear one more name or statistic or find my browser opened to Yahoo fantasy football one more time, I’m.going.to.scream…
Oh, yeah, and what do you say to two young boys when they want to know why Ben Roethlisberger was suspended for 6 games (reduced to only 4 because he’s been a good little boy)? Football has ceased being fun for me.
Same happened for me when our son became obsessed. I had to forbid football talk during the off season! I've learned the glassy eyed nod when football talk begins.
I write as an American in Montreal: substitute “hockey” for “football.” Actually, for me the CFL (Canadian football league) season is actually a blessed break from the hockey season.
How about limiting the boys' football talk to when Dad gets home from work. Then you only have to scream once!
What to say to the boys about Ben? Just tell them that Ben hurt a woman he didn't know and that he is being punished because he did not act like the kind of person the Steelers want to have as an example of someone youngsters would be looking up to and he is giving the Steeler football family a bad name. A good segue into punishment/consequences for wrong choices/bad judgement/law-breaking as an adult. That they (Bill & Fritz) are being taught these kinds of right/wrong lessons as kids so that they don't do these things as adults. And that Ben obviously either wasn't taught very well as a kid or he was allowed to get away with too many things in his younger years because he was a “star” player.
Just full of ideas on a Monday morning! :]
It beats World Cup Soccer and the accompanying vuvuzelas. That's how I spent my summer. Every morning Little Brother woke up and turned on the music of the vuvuzela on ESPN.