Barb Designs

To my football friends and family:

If you had any hope over the years that I would become a football fan, you must think that now is the perfect time for my conversion. With the Ohio State Buckeyes and the Oregon Ducks playing in the Rose Bowl, you may think that I have no choice but to become a fan—at least for a day. After growing up in Ohio and now living in Oregon, I must surely see the light and root for one team or the other.

But alas, I have to apologize to you once again, because I still don’t care about football.

Please do not hate me even though I may cause you shame. I thank you for all of the times you tried to help me become a better person: the time you explained the difference between a basketball and a football, the time you tried to dress me in scarlet and gray and put that garland of buckeye nuts around my neck so I wouldn’t get beat up, and the time you stopped me from proceeding with the Heimlich when you were actually referring to the Heisman all along.

I understand why you are concerned about me and the things I’ll never be able to do like:

• name the players on a football team and the positions they play, let alone remember how many there are
• discuss the strengths and weaknesses of coaches and if their wives are pretty or not
• pick out team colors and try to match them with my Converse
• yell at a TV with rejoicing cries of “Boo-yah!” and “Touchdown!” and “Woo-hoo!”
• yell at a TV with denouncing cries of “Git ‘em!” and “What kind of bullshit call was that?” and “Tackle that motherfucker!”
• choose players for my very own successful fantasy football team to override all those years of being picked last in gym class

But even though I may be deficient in those areas, I can still shine in my own way when I can:

• name the discography of Pavement, Wilco and more indie bands than I can count
• discuss the strengths and weaknesses of Sartre, Camus, Gide and Proust and their long-dead lovers
• pick out Jonathan Safran Foer, Sufjan Stevens and Romain Duris in a line-up
• yell at a TV, rejoicing when Mr. Blonde severs Nash’s ear while singing, “Stuck in the Middle with You”
• yell at a TV, crying “Nooo!” when Buffy drives the sword through Angel’s heart, sending him to hell, to close Acathla’s vortex
• choose 70% versus 60% cacao to make the final-touch ganache just a tad more decadent

I realize that these skills may not be useful in everyday life. They probably won’t help me land a job, get a raise, be the life of the party or even hold conversations with most normal human beings. But I have decided that I’m OK with that. And I’m comfortable with my football deficiency.

So when you’re cheering on your favorite team at the Rose Bowl this January in Pasadena (my mom told me that’s where the game is after almost hanging up on me when I didn’t know), please don’t worry about me. While the game is on, I might watch a movie, read a book, or go for a hike. As much as you’ve tried to make me a better person, you have to realize that my football education is futile. But please, find it in your heart to still love me, or at least still mock me at reunions.

Yours truly,
Barb