The diary of a New York love-seeking doll By Stephanie Klein (Independent) Updated: 2004-07-29 09:20 July 21
19 days of nonsense
Don't start thinking I follow sports; I don't, not even the NY Knicks, and I
love the Knicks (though I do believe basketball is the one sport where you can
really appreciate the talent of the athletes). I heard it on Live with Regis and
Kelly this morning. "Nineteen consecutive days of football air this fall." I'll
be lining up the Tivo with Dr Phil episodes to combat the insanity.
"Women don't like football because they don't understand it," my father
mutters into his paper. He is wrong. You're all dead wrong. In high school, they
forced us to play powder-puff football. There might have been Velcro belts with
flags dangling to substitute for the tackling. Oh shut up. The point is, we
learnt the rules. We know The Kickoff isn't a rejection technique, that Fielding
the Punt and Letting the Ball Go aren't sexual positions, and a Snapped Ball
isn't nearly as painful as it sounds. I understand the basic rules well enough.
What I don't understand is why anyone would watch this shit. It's clumping.
You're sitting around, sipping your beers watching the clumps.
I used to have season tickets to the New York Giants. I hated going to games,
mostly because the food at Giants Stadium is for shit. I mean even the junk food
tastes off. Give me some dogs, mustard, and a baseball cap and I'm pretty happy,
but football in Jersey? Just kill me now.
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