A Dangerous Admission

*The proceeding post is designed to be tongue-in-cheek. Please don't take any of it too seriously. I love my friends who love football, and I'm not in therapy for my childhood experiences of it.*

In the past weekend, my husband and our friends have watched 4 football games together. . . and I was there, my nose buried firmly in a book. Now, I will be the first to acknowledge that football parties are a great chance to build friendships and maybe even fellowship a little, but the whole actually watching the game part kind of bums me out. I always knew that I didn't like football; what I've realized recently is that I actively dislike it. I actually find it difficult to watch.

Now, I know that this is a dangerous admission in the Delmarva area. This is a region where half of our church's leadership team shows up on Sunday morning wearing Eagles' paraphernalia, where our pastor's benediction once was, "Go Eagles!", where high school football games take precedence over anything else on a Friday night, and where the advertisement for the local news station declares that "we" in Delmarva "have a passion for sports". More than once at the daycare, I've heard children (and adults) say incredulously, "You don't own a jersey?!?" "You don't know who won last night?!" "You don't even like football?!?". Hello, my name is Meredith, and I dislike football.

Of course, I have a perfectly legitimate excuse for being this way. I was raised in the DC Metro area as a Redskins fan. The Redskins were a decent team for the first 7 or 8 years of my life. Then they went downhill . . . fast. My dad still held to the old alliance, but I grew tired of hearing, "You like the Redskins? Don't you know they're terrible?!" Some of my friends have held fast to their allegiances under pressure like this (Go Orioles!), and I admire them for that, but I just couldn't do it. I just backed out of the whole football scene, resentfully, my true allegiance still lying with the Redskins and my heart slowly growing bitter at having to watch them lose again . . . and again . . . and again. By the time they made their comeback, (can we call it a comeback?), I was too far gone even to appreciate that.

Let it be known: I will watch other sports with the best of 'em. I love going to baseball games, I adore televised soccer, and I am enamored with the Olympics. But I can't watch football. Sorry, Delmarva.