Super Bowl Sunday for Women:
Life will return to normal

Kristin Caliolo
SPECIAL TO THINK & ASK
NEW YORK CITY

I'll give you one chance to guess which season we are in. No, I don't mean colorful leaves lining our neighborhood streets, or pumpkins decorating the porch. Every Fall, women know that time of year it is, because our men change colors, in front of the television set in preparation for Super Bowl Sunday. That sweet, devoted male companion who spent the Spring and Summer contributing his share, suddenly defoliates his personality for the interest of sports.

Those quiet, almost flirtatious Summer Saturday afternoons shopping together, or catching a movie matinee are over. Now the weekend revolves around the football schedule and sleazy beer commercials. I am a typical Manhattan woman, in her mid-20’s, trying to make a decent living and have a little fun. I live with my boyfriend of 6 years in a cozy, one bedroom apartment in Kips Bay.

We plan to marry eventually --no rush. We have a wonderful loving relationship, but like any couple, we have different hobbies and different obsessions. I like the typical "girlie weekend" activities; shopping, movies, taking a walk, and going-out to enjoy a nice dinner. My significant other has one obsession: FOOTBALL. Sam is an Investment Banker who has a passion for anything football-related. This time of year; whether he heads off to a college or pro game, or stays home watching football constantly on television, he fills his free time listening to games on the radio, or maintaining his on-line Fantasy Football leagues (of which he plays in 3 different leagues.) If time permits, he'll also play Madden NFL 2003 on his Sony PlayStation(R)2.

Now, here is an enlightening statement; I HATE football. I think it is boring, the game is too long, and way too complicated. What’s with all those crazy rules? Off-sides, holding, interception, yada, yada, yada! Who cares? On Saturdays, while he is jumping up and down in front of the television set, my exercise is making finger sandwiches, or hitting the market for a beer run.

Come on women, you know exactly what I am talking about, because on Saturday afternoons the grocery lines are full of us buying beer and cold cuts! To his credit I admit that, my love, Sam tries to help me enjoy football and updates me on the rules. He even bought me the book “Mom’s Pocket Guide to Watching Football.” That was an all time low. Women don’t mind their men watching an occasional game or talking about the latest touchdown made by Donovan McNabb. It’s their obsession with making us take-up this habit that we find so offensive.

Do men really need to SCREAM at the television when their team fumbles? Is a foul so life altering that he must turn red-in-the-face and raise his blood pressure? Do men really need to call each other at all hours of the night to negotiate Fantasy Football trades? Is playing Madden 2003 video games until 3 AM reason enough to arrive late to work the next day?

Ladies, I know you must sympathize with my angst. As a woman who is not attracted to football in the least, I can tell you that the happiest day of the year for me is Super Bowl Sunday. I look forward to this day all season. It is on this day that I gladly stand in food lines with other cheering women for chopped cold ham and cheese, and as much beer that will fit in the shopping cart. I smile to myself lugging these goods up five flights of stairs, knowing it is almost over.

When that last Coors(R) Light commercial airs with those stupid, blonde-bimbo, bikini-clad twins, I know I have made it through yet another football season. As I vacuum up Tostitos(R) crumbs from the carpet, I cheerfully put words to song, "Freedom from football at last!" Well, for at least the next seven months.

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