I never played football. I barely understand the rules. I mean I get the basic rules: you get four chances to keeping moving the ball 10 yards until you get to the part of the field where you find your team’s logo and what appears to be two festivus poles attached by a bar. And I understand that the goal is to get to this logo pole area with the ball (that isn’t even round) before getting the shit kicked out of you and possibly suffering lifelong injuries.
But I really have no clue what these referees are talking about with these little flags or why they are dressed like prison inmates. In fact, when the referees talk, it’s like I’m listening to the grown-ups speak on a Charlie Brown special.
I probably don’t grasp the flag stuff because I learned the rules to football from my cousin’s hand-held electronic football toy where there were no flags – only little player dots.
I also never go out of my way to watch football. But when the super bowl is on, it is sometimes fun to watch parts of the game in between commercials.
While it is pretty obvious that football is not my thing, if I ever were to play it, I would totally play defense. I’d be that little corner dot that comes out of nowhere and knocks down the dot trying to pass the ball.
I just seem to have a knack for defense.
And I have been known to surprise opponents in turning their offensive stance into a defensive one.
I am at my strongest when I am defending myself against unwarranted attacks.
I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just easier to justify fighting when being forced to. Or perhaps, it’s just the stoic in me.
10 blog posts down, 355 more to go.