Since becoming a mother, I have also become: a football fan. It's so weird. No one who knows me well knows what to make of this baffling new development. They all look at me like I imagine Anne Lammot's friends looked at her when she became a born-again Christian. Like her, I have found religion. What can I say? It's something to do on Sundays.
I have two explanations for this curious new interest. The first is more romantic, and it is this: the primal scenes of pregnancy and childbirth left me more sympathetic to ritualized expressions of animalistic behavior. The second, more logistical, is that it's just harder for me to leave the house these days, and so I take my drama where I can get it.*
Anyway, it's not like I've become a football expert or something: there are lots of basics I still don't fully understand. But I can say with some confidence that I think Reggie Bush is a better contender than Devin Hester for rookie of the year, and I'm genuinely interested in the outcome of tonights Colts/Bengals matchup. Who would have thought that the Bengals would be a serious threat?
So, the new football fan Sarah Mesle has something to say to the Chicago Bears. I would like to say: Jesus! Get it together! People, I am a new mother. I do not have the strength to watch you squander a 21 point lead over Tampa Bay. When you give up three unanswered touchdowns for no apparent reason, I start squawking, which upsets my infant child. Robbie Gould, when you miss a 37 yard field goal attempt, I become unwilling to ignore the fact that you prance around like an overgrown leprechan. You irritate me.
*A third possible reason is that I now read the NYT football coverage, which happily connects my normal interests to my new football interests by saying things like, "The Dallas defensive line was as inpenetrable as a symbolist poem." But I didn't really start reading the football coverage until after I started watching games, so I think the Times is more an enabling than a causal factor.