The only sports that were a regular part of my childhood were dance and gymnastics. I did have a small fling with soccer in kindergarten, but my disdain for running and poor coordination really weren’t a good match for the game. As a high school cheerleader I had to remind myself that offense was when we had the ball and I never quite learned what 1st & 10 meant. Despite going to a sports-focused university like Florida State for college, I only went to 4 football games and was always too bored and tired to stay through the end.
When it comes to professional sports, one could easily deduce that I’m not the type to care which team wins. If “watching” sports with my husband I often root for the underdog and feel sad for the losing team.
And so, on Saturday night when I found myself hoping, praying and crossing my fingers for a Patriots win against the Ravens in the playoffs, you could say that this was a bit unnatural.
You see, Chris is a super fan of the Patriots. He is dedicated, enthusiastic, and in love with Tom Brady.
His enthusiasm can be a bit overwhelming at times, and during a game as heated as Saturday things were a bit tense. And because we live in a small one bedroom in Beacon Hill, I can feel and hear every bit of agony or elation that he has during the game – loud and clear (and so can our neighbors). For fear of his emotional wellbeing, I started praying for a win.
Lucky me I guess it worked. Now I get to relive it all again next weekend.