Monday, January 23, 2012

Ah, sports

My husband's favorite football team won last night's qualifier and are heading to the super bowl.

Let me tell you why I care.

My husband is extremely superstitious when it comes to his NY Giants, and overly devoted. We moved our wedding date from a Sunday to a Saturday because the Giants were playing. Our child was born on the eve of a Giants game and so Sean is convinced that he is their, and I quote, "good luck charm" and holds him every time there is an important play on the field. Since they won last week and during that game Sean snacked on cheese, pepperoni, and crackers, I had to go to two different stores to find the same brand of pepperoni in case it was the sole reason they were victorious.

And we all have to wear Giants shirts and be seated in front of the game every Sunday or else they risk losing.

I find less religion in growing up Catholic.

And if they lose? Sean acts like he just got his period on prom night. He doesn't speak for at least an hour and then mopes for the rest of the day. I long for night games so that I may go to sleep before the game ends.

I consider myself to be a pretty dedicated Red Sox fan. I even have a small tattoo of the Boston "B". But when it comes to football, my husband is an ultimate fan. My tattoo can't compete with his unending devotion to the Giants; he's got them permanently tattooed on his soul.