I hate football

Well, not really. But right now I do. Yesterday’s game (Steelers vs. Jets) sucked. Maybe not so much if you happen to be a Jets fan, but as a hardcore Steelers fan…

I’m not usually a bad loser. Heck, I’m a writer. I’m used to rejection. It’s just that the guys have lulled me into a false sense of security. We’ve been pulling games out of the hat in the second half this season. So when we were down by ten points early on, I didn’t worry. We were 7-2 and knew how to win. They were 1-8 and only knew how to lose. When we started moving the ball, I felt confident. When we took the lead by a measly three points, I felt assured of victory. However, that 100 yard in penalties nagged at the back of my brain. The fact is a team cannot win when they give the other team 100 yards by being stupid. We shouldn’t have won that game yesterday. And we didn’t.

I’m thinking of my dad today. I learned to love football from him. But I didn’t develop my love of the Steelers from him. Dad HATED the Steelers. I never could figure out why. He would never say. He loved to taunt me on those mornings after a loss. Especially if the Steelers played bad, but even if we should have won and just couldn’t pull it off, he’d be on my case. “What happened to those Steelers of yours?” he would ask with an evil glint in his eye. Yet, when we won, he would concede nothing. He’d just get quiet and I knew what he was thinking. Yeah, but wait ‘til next week.

Right now, Dad is up in heaven laughing his head off. If I close my eyes, I can hear him still.

What happened to those Steelers of yours?


I hate football.


Joyce said…
I would have gotten along really well with your Dad.

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