It’s time for the silly season where nearly everyone has to choose a color, and Saturdays become sacred. College football begins this week.
Until the end of November, weekend plans have to be filtered through game time. I suspect my husband double-checked the game schedule for Sept. 10 games before deciding on which Pied Piper performance to attend to cheer on our singing and dancing daughter. I didn’t catch him doing it, so I’ll have to give him the benefit of the doubt that he was just aiming for the “cooler” performance.
The immediate family has pledged football allegiance to Alabama – my husband’s alma mater. “Roll Tide” was one of the first phrases my children learned. My son has learned to take some good-natured ribbing from his favorite teacher when he wears his Crimson Tide jerseys to school.
Thankfully, my husband has a built-in support group of football fanatics, even if they don’t all wear Crimson-colored glasses. In the extended family, the teams of choice are all over the map: Mississippi State, Ole Miss, Georgia, LSU, Notre Dame, Boise State and Florida State.
Relationships, so far, have remained mostly collegial. My husband hasn’t held lasting grudges against the aunts, cousins and grandparents who have taught our children to bark like Bulldogs, hail the Irish or yell “Geaux Tigers.” There are no Auburn fans in the family as yet, so Thanksgiving remains peaceful.
My alma mater – the mighty Drake University – doesn’t play football on national TV, but I do get excited when I see a score on ESPN.
So I really don’t consider myself a football widow. I like football, but I don’t necessarily consider it “Must See” TV. I don’t begrudge folks a hobby that they are passionate about. Some folks live to knit, collect rocks or play video games. Most of my family loves to watch football and holler at the TV. I’m happy to join in.
The trash will still get taken out. The dog will still get walked. Children will be encouraged to go play outside. The world doesn’t pause during football season; it just takes a time out.
I do know I can pull my husband away for important things. We got married during the Alabama-Tennessee game back in 1996. Thankfully, neither of our children were born during football season so we didn’t have to test him.
Last year, I dislocated a toe during the South Carolina game. My husband didn’t protest taking me to the doctor. After all, Alabama was losing; it gave him something else to think about.
Michaela Gibson Morris is a Daily Journal staff writer. Contact her at (662) 678-1599 or firstname.lastname@example.org.
Michaela Gibson Morris