It's that time again.

It's football season. Horray.

I wish that I was more excited about football, but I'm not. In contrast to how I felt about it during college, football is not about parties and hot chocolate and sitting on bleachers on chilly Friday and Saturday nights. Instead, the beginning of football season means frustration and annoyance.

For one, the beginning of football season coincides with the beginning of school. This time of year tends to be pretty stressful for me as I adjust to early mornings and full work weeks, students who be tryin' me, and the general knowledge that it'll be 10 more months before I can sleep in every day and drink boxed wine every night.

So as Matt gets giddy like a little schoolgirl about pre-season games and fantasy football leagues, I experience a feeling of dread about how much work is ahead of me.

This time of year, I have less time and energy to do things around the house, the same things I was happy to do during the summer months. And simultaneously, Matt's priorities undergo a dramatic shift. Suddenly, we are scheduling our life around fantasty football drafts (he's in THREE leagues!), and Saturday afternoon and night games, Sunday afternoon and night games, Monday night games, and the occasional Thursday night game (really not that much of a time commitment, Matt argues). Matt will occasionally forego watching a very important game (because, somehow, they're almost all very important) to do something else, but usually only after I get pissy about it.


Have I mentioned that he's a Buffalo Bills fan? THE BILLS? Being a Bills fan is like being friends with someone who punches you in the stomach every time you see each other.

We will have our annual beginning of football season fight, which is usually more about me being stressed than it is about Matt's watching football. (Sadly, it seems that too many of our fights are more about me being tired or cranky or just a bitch in general than they are about the actual "topic" of the fight.) Then things will begin to level out, and I'll cool down.


What I have to remember is that I signed up for this. Matt has been football-obsessed since he was a wee boy, and nothing that I do is going to change that part of him. And truthfully, I wouldn't want to. He loves it. He loves it the way I love The Hills and Forrest Gump and Dirty Dancing and cupcakes and Mitch combined. I'm happy that Matt's happy. I just wish that sweeping the floor, doing laundry, and cooking dinner were the things that made him so happy.

But I'd be lying if I didn't admit to some of the small joys that football brings me. For one, it allows me an opportunity to give really insightful commentary such as "Run to the yellow line!" or "The Patriots are so good at throwing and catching." Occasionally, I get to watch my favorite thing in football, an interception returned for a touchdown. Matt's three fantasy leagues often bring in some cash (for me to spend at Target!). But the greatest thing about football for Mandy? Football boyfriends.

First there's Trent Edwards, the quarterback for Buffalo. He's not the most handsome of the football boyfriends, but he's the smartest. T.E. went to Stanford!

Then there's Brett. Oh, Brett. Brett was my first football boyfriend, but we broke up a couple of years ago when he started being a drama queen.

The most handsome football boyfriend in the league today would have to be Tom Brady. He makes my heart beat fast.
But the one with the whole package, the personality, the looks, the charisma? It's Coach Eric Taylor from Friday Night Lights.

On those days when I'm frustrated with the way our life seems to revolve around football, I can just think of Coach Taylor's wife, and be happy that at least I'm not in her situation, and that football has the shortest season of any sport.