sundays

sundays are a religion around here. ch is absolutely addicted to the nfl...trades, fantasy football, magazines, paraphanalia, you name it. i have to admit that sometimes it's addicting, too.

...or at least the enthusiasm makes it seem appealing, until you actually get to the day itself and then the magic is kinda lost. we buy "sunday ticket football" from shaw, which really translates to "tracy pays an extra $40 on her cable bill so that ch can watch 364+hrs of football on sundays". ok, i might be exaggerating, but not by much. chris will get up around 10 and hit the ground running and somedays he'll get up earlier with the excitement that a kid would generate for xmas day. he will run downstairs, open the laptop and start his fantasy football trades. he's been in a group of 12 guys who meet and discuss football and make their fantasy teams and argue and cuss and swear and drink a lot of beer while doing so.  and then he'll come home and discuss ad nauseum every detail, every discussion, every trade, and yammer on about stats.  trust me, i've perfected the art of pretending to pay attention, but really?  i'm not.

so once the trades are made, the snarky comments left on the various bulletin boards on the internet, he will turn on the tv to the pregame shows where four hot heads will sit and pontificate about the upcoming games.  sometimes they're interesting, particularly the clothing choices of dion sanders, but mostly, it's just a bunch of overpaid, marginally talented, slightly stupid, ageing mouths discussing people who could literally run circles around their criticism. 

11am hits and that's kickoff of the first game.  sunday ticket allows ch to get as many games as he wants.  what is VERY frustrating about it is that it's in our livingroom for starters, so that means he's basically dominating the entire main floor of our house.  when you only have a 1300 sq foot house, that domination seems to be overwhelming.  combine that with a volume that would make my grandmother blush, and you are running out of options quickly.  it's usually when i will resurrect the stevenson in me and head out to shop and get OUT of the noise, or else find other projects to do that will take me away and (preferrably) OUT of the house.  the second (or third?) frustrating part of it is that if i'm feeling remotely charitable and sit down to A) listen to him describe trades, players, or game strategies, or B) try to pay attention to the game, he will cut back and forth between games...so just when you are actually rooting for a team, or getting into the game ~ZAP~ goes the remote, and it's onto another game.  tres, tres penible.

i usually just give up at that point and get out of the house.

he will stay in his old sweats all day long...unshowered, hair a-kimbo, and beard raw and messy.  he is more than content to sit there for the entire day in the same position watching both the game and the internet for the changes in his points of his fantasy team. 

football consumes ch is ways i can not comprehend.  already the countdown is on and next weekend marks the beginning of the fantasy league and the sign of 17+ long weeks of endless conversations about players, injuries, and stats and hours of me really trying hard to win an oscar for best supporting wife in the "give a damn" category. 




you can see how that stresses a girl out, right?