I’m thinking every man might want to marry me.
Why?
Because I love football.
Real football!
Not the pretty boy stuff we’ll see on Sunday,
sponsored by all those cute-sie ad companies
and high tech field groomers
and announcers that wear designer suits and blow dried hair,
sprayed perfectly in a womanly, coiffured style.
No. No. NO!
That is not football!
That is an athletic beauty pageant of Hollywood proportions.
Give me the real stuff:
Dirt, mud, fights,
real men fighting all of the elements to prove who is the toughest.
Obscene gestures to the crowd,
with the crowd answering back
using out-of-control hollers and creative signs --
now that’s football.
Which is why I now love the play-offs the most.
Because it's filled with real men doing real things,
minus all of the "cosmetics."
But, shhh,
don’t tell anyone
because if the “money men” find out
the play-offs are becoming the "real attraction,"
they’ll ruin the play-offs too.
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