But in Texas, you don't seem to hear this as much. Which makes sense, of course, since the football stadiums for the local high schools look more expensive than the motherloving HOPE DIAMOND for chrissakes.
So, you'd think this would put me in my element, right? A girl with a football-loving family, free to stay up late on Monday nights without being accused of witchcraft or being a traitor to my gender or having no taste whatsoever. (Well, that last one probably still applies.)
But the fact is that this football thing (in addition to all. the. goddamn. bugs. OMFG) may just be my downfall here in Texas. Because, c'mon. Do you REALLY think I'm going to root for the fucking COWBOYS?!
Why? Because I'm a Giants fan. And I'm married to a Bills fan. And my dad is a Jets fan. (It's a dysfunctional group, but we make it work.)
In fact, when I went to my neighbor's house last weekend to watch the Cowboys play the Jets, I was cringing while everyone else would cheer. And when everyone else moaned and cursed at Romo, I secretly texted my dad back in New York. "IT'S GONNA BE A GOOD YEAR! WAHOOO!" (Of course, he and I both know that's probably not true, but that's besides the point. It's part of being a Jets fan. Especially when Folk is on the team. FOLKING FOLK.)
I mean, I'm not one of those assholes that always has an excuse for why MY TEAM has lost or can't appreciate the talent and efforts of another state's team. (Those people are called Red Sox fans, in case you weren't sure.) (JAY KAY!) But I can't just switch allegiances because of a temporary change in geography.
So, what do you think, Internet? How should I handle this football season? I've come up with the following options. Please circle one:
Spend the entire season indoors, avoiding all eye contact with my neighbors (and the general population of the DFW area), and sporting my NY shirts in the privacy of my own home. Seriously, even the GROCERY STORE is covered in Dallas Cowboys paraphernalia. COVERED.
Join my friends and neighbors for the occasional game, but take a vow of silence. I will fold my hands in my lap and watch the sport in a civilized manner, sipping on ginger ale and minding the children. (Mind-bullets and dirty looks, however, are still acceptable. As is eating all their amazing food.)
3. Declaration of War
Wear my NY gear into their sea of silver stars, and practice my New York Style heckling and acts of aggression. I'll have to hire a body guard, likely, or just bring that bobcat I have living in my closet (they have a pit bull, I should mention, who I think is ALSO a fucking Cowboys fan).
What say you, Internet?