When I met my husband I knew he was a sports fan. It's one of the things we have in common - we both love MLB and the NFL...he is also a fan of the NBA and some other sports I'm not really into. But it all worked out.
One thing that really makes life interesting is that we don't root for the same teams. I'm a hardcore St. Louis Cardinals fan, he is a life-long Chicago Cubs fan. I am a die-hard New Orleans Saints fan, he prefers the Chicago Bears (I know, a southern boy who likes the Bears?!) It's all very fun when our teams play one another!
I guess we had been dating a few months before football season started. I knew he was in several fantasy football leagues and figured we'd watch a few games, no big deal.
Little did I know about Football Sunday.
The first Sunday of football season, we wake up, make breakfast, watch a church service on tv and then it happens. He asks me, "Are you ready for Football Sunday?", with a big grin on his face. I say yes, and that I'm super excited!
We get ready and head to Buffalo Wild Wings...you know because of the 30 TV's all tuned into different football games. Still, no big deal.
We watch our teams' games, eat some lunch; it's a good time.
About 4 in the afternoon, I'm thinking it's about time to head home (we dated long distance and it was my turn to make the drive back home). But we weren't on the same page, as we kept sitting there he ordered more food and drinks.
Finally, I asked when he thought he'd be ready to go home. He said right before the night game. By now, I'm thinking he's crazy! We've been here basically all day!
That is the day I learned exactly what Football Sunday really meant. It meant Football. All Day. The entire Sunday. Every Sunday of football season.
I married him, so I guess I'm ok with it. But we have a little one on the way and I doubt we'll be able to leave the house every Sunday next year and hang out at BWW. And he's crazy if he thinks I'm missing a Saints game....