Completed 2. Watch NFL RedZone for Seven Hours
I grew up in a family that really enjoys football. I recall many happy Sundays spent at Steelers bars, at family members’ houses watching the game, or even going to the actual game. I recall the heartbreak of losses and the elation of wins. I even had enough love in my heart to embrace two teams. I used to live in New Orleans, so I rooted for the Saints in addition to my Steelers. My point in sharing this is that I haven’t always been a football grumbler.
But then one day, I visited FedEx field to watch the Redskins play the Packers. That was the day I lost all interest in football (and faith in humanity).
On paper, the day was pretty perfect — our tickets were comped, we had free parking, and we even snuck into a VIP tent and dined for free. On our way to our seats is when the faith-in-humanity-questioning began. I encountered the most obnoxious fans in all the land (and I’ve been to Baltimore’s Stadium in Steelers clothing — they were tame in comparison). These sloppy, spitting, drunken, wasteful, irresponsible troglodytes, also known as Washington Redskins fans, made me hate all things football, something in which I had once found joy. I sat in my seat, not watching the game, but instead spending the time observing these terribly loud, human-shaped chunks of walking, talking flesh. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate all Redskins fans (just most of them).
Ever since that soul-sucking day, I have avoided football, which is difficult considering that I’m married to a football extremist. He spends his Sundays watching football all day long and I spend my time focusing on random things I want to accomplish like crafting, visiting museums, completing goals, blogging, etc. I despise laying around all day doing nothing on gorgeous fall days, but to each their own. I’ve grown to love my status as a football widow.
I asked Kris why he challenged me to watch RedZone for seven hours and he said, “so you know how it is on the other side.”
And to that I say, fuck the other side.
My exposure to football for the last few years has been minimal and six minutes in, I wanted to crawl out of my body. My limit is one football game at a time, not ten. Plus, there’s no buildup with RedZone. It’s like the saying, it’s not the destination, it’s the journey… it was totally anticlimactic. I couldn’t multitask (other than live tweeting my day #dreadzone), which would have helped break up some of the mindlessness, but I literally watched football for seven hours straight, doing nothing else. I tried to root for certain teams to make things mildly exciting, but I seriously couldn’t care less. I didn’t learn anything. I didn’t gain anything valuable. I just rotted away on the couch with my new BFF, Hooters chicken wings.
I take that back, the experience made me look forward to waking up and getting into work so my brain could be resuscitated. In addition, I listened to NPR for my entire 1 hour 45 minute commute, hoping that I might learn something. Anything.
Watching NFL RedZone has made me hate football even more. Good job, Kris.
In addition to my brain dying, I would like to share food items that Kris brought home to “increase my football experience,” which also killed my gastrointestinal tract. I consumed the following over the course of seven hours. RIP stomach:
- Carrots and hummus (doesn’t count though, too healthy)
- 3 chicken wings
- 2 thin-crust slices of pizza
- 1 Take Five fun size candy bar
- 1 side of Popeye’s French fries
- 2 shots of whiskey
- 1 pint of Heineken
– Lyssa