All rights go to the original poster of this image
Don't get me wrong, I love the Seahawks and I'm proud of them. They are a great team. I used to watch them with my dad when I was a kid, so I know the basics - the ins and outs of the game. Unfortunately, my like of football has been tainted.
A couple of years ago, I was married to a man who loved football. I used to watch games with him. At first it was fun, but then he decided that drinking would be a staple to watching the Seahawks play. He would become annoyed if I asked him any questions about what had just occurred during a play. He would get incredibly loud and boisterous, which is just not okay living on the third floor of an apartment. Then, as the years passed, he'd invite friends over, and they would all get drunk, loud, and boisterous. I just couldn't be in the same room as them anymore. I would tell them to quiet down and they would yell at me to shut up. I don't know if this mark on my rental history for noise complaints is related, but it sure as hell is following me around either way. I'm sure my old neighbors were extremely tolerant, but I know they were beyond loud.
When it was just my husband and his best friend watching a game, they would often pause a recorded game for hours and argue about it, turning a 2-1/2 hour game (without commercials) into a 5-6 hour game, taking up the only TV in the house. Then, it wasn't just the Seahawks anymore. He had to watch every game of football the same way, just so he could keep up on who was going to play the Seahawks next, or whatever.
I love you, Wil Wheaton.
We also had arguments about the show *I* wanted to watch. The Next Iron Chef played Sunday nights at 8 or 9pm, and I would want to watch it live because Alton Brown usually tweeted along with the show. Normally this would not interfere with his "Seahawks time", but because him and his buddy would pause it and yell at each other for hours, I would complain about wanting to watch my show. It should never have been an issue, but every Sunday it was the same.
Sometimes I would cry, because I felt trapped. Sure I had a car, but I had nowhere to go, no one else to spend time with. I was trapped in an apartment full of drunks with nothing to do. I decided then that I hated football. Okay, that's a strong word. But extremely dislike. It's very hard for me to get over all this bitterness the game created around my marriage, even though it wasn't the sport's fault. I kind of worry about watching the games with any one else (any future boyfriends) because I fear them being just like my ex-husband.
I know it's wrong to blame football, but I can't help it. Maybe one day I can start over. But today is not that day.
Sorry, hand egg sports ball fans.