Yesterday, vital moments were decided during games of American Football.  My home state’s team of the N’awlins Saints had their incredible journey ended by San Fransisco.  Up here in New England, the Patriots continued plowing through their opposition.  And although I spent a childhood sitting by and watching as my father viewed college and professional American football games, I still do not get this sport.  Scrimmage lines, downs, the misshapen ball sometimes just gets left to roll down the field, and all this stopping!  Four quarters somehow get stretched into four hours of game time!  What? 

So in the late ’90’s, fully pregnant and jumping up and down when the U.S. women won the World Cup, I became a soccer fan.  But the rest of the world calls soccer “football,” because all team members actually kick the ball, and only one team member (the goal keeper) can use their hands during normal game play. 

But I will pay some attention to the Super Bowl for the commercials.  And during play-offs, if a home team is fighting for the trip to the championships, I will make an attempt to watch.  Like I did last night as me and the Mister got comfy on couches for the Patriots/Broncos game.  I made my husband laugh, as he stated it is good we were not at a bar or sports pub watching, for I’d make everyone mad. 
“What just happened?”
“Why didn’t he run with the ball?”  The Mister: “Because he was about to get tackled.”
“Why are they just letting the ball bounce around the field?”
“Well, of course he can interfere.  Isn’t that the point of DEFENSE?” 
Ha ha ha.  Brady got sacked. 
“Why didn’t they lose yards?  Didn’t the defense knock him back a few yards?”   The Mister:  “It’s a new rule.  They start where he stopped with the ball.”   Oh. 
“So if the defense pulls the quarter back a few yards, do they lose them?  I mean if the defense gets through the line, then they deserve to re-start a few yards back.” 

Although I do really enjoy watching Wes Welker and Rob Gronkowski play.  Welker is an average sized man, but far more than average once he gets the ball.  He bullets away from opposers towards the end zone with a grin on his face.  And 22-year-old Gronkowski is part hot-young-thing and part mountain.   This human plow is not only a giant on the field, but fast and agile, making him a favorite target for Brady’s passes.   So I do possess the potential to pay attention during and American football game.

But last night, I resorted to reading The Drawing of the Three and eventually fell asleep on the couch during the 3rd quarter.