Sportsball Game

GO SPORTSBALL! Amirite?

Yeah, so I was just scrolling through Facebook one afternoon and saw an ad for "Star Trek Night" at T-Mobile Park in Seattle: Mariners vs Padres. I thought to myself - this can not be a coincidence. Patrick loves his Padres since he was born and raised in San Diego; and it's Star Trek Night - with a free hat?? I had to buy tickets.

A little background in case you didn't know already. To me, all sports is sportsball. I used to casually watch football until my ex-husband killed that desire back when I was married. But I had a special dislike of baseball in my heart because it has no time limit and therefore can runnith over on TV - cutting off new episodes of Deep Space Nine with no chance of repeats. THE NERVE.

I'll be honest, when I learned that Patrick was a sports person I hesitated because of my prior experience with Justin. Football kind of consumed him and caused me a lot of anger, annoyance, and frustration. He would often hold small parties with his friends, make a huge mess, yell and scream at the TV and I had no where to escape. We got complaints of the noise level. Sometimes if I asked questions I could get condescending remarks. He would get drunk and unruly. He started to watch football games other than the Seahawks because he wanted to know which team would win and then play against them. Nothing would take precedence over the game. A game wouldn't take 3 hours - sometimes it would take 5 or more because he would pause it and argue with his friends. I hated it so much, and it caused such a sour taste in my mouth that even after we divorced I couldn't watch football anymore.

So when I told Patrick about the Padres game and offered to buy tickets, I was really putting myself out there. I was only interested because I got a free Star Trek hat and because I wanted to make Patrick happy. I had never in my life watched a baseball game in full. I had never gone to one in person or even visited T-Mobile Park. I knew maybe 3% of how baseball was even played. But for the first time in my life, I was willing to do something I knew I would truly dislike for the sake of my boyfriend's happiness. And in all fairness, it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. Sure, baseball is slow and kind of boring, but even I clapped and cheered when the Mariners got a home run, and we had alcohol and good food ta-boot.

Plus, I got to spend Quality Time™ with Patrick doing something that he absolutely loved. And that's all that really matters.

That and the free hat. XD

I Wish I Liked Football

With the NFC Championships fast approaching, Seattle is in a fervor. They're still riding on a high from last year's Super Bowl win, and everybody is talking about the "best team in the League". I wish I could ride the wave of this enthusiasm. 

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.