Is it really that time of year again? Yes! It is time for the annual showdown in Dallas.
But that also means it will be the hardest week of my life.
My wife and I will continue about our daily lives and will still be happily married regardless of the outcome. But my wife has one flaw: She is an Oklahoma Sooner fan. While I love her, this week is commonly referred to as hell week.
The tension will build as Saturday approaches, and we will be trash talking all the way until kickoff. But at kickoff, one thing will happen: We will cease to talk or show any affection until the end of the game.
Monday will be the best day of the week. We won't throw out any insults today—we will talk, but you already know the tension is in the air.
Tuesday will be the beginning of the fight. We will insult each other's teams and sing fight songs as loud as possible toward each other until bed.
Wednesday is commonly referred to as wicked Wednesday. This is just the start of the worst. The usual pranks are pulled and more personal insults are thrown.
Thursday hits, and "It" hits the fan. Usually an all-out screaming match happens and we end up sleeping in separate rooms until the end of the game.
Friday is when we can act civil and go out to the usual pregame stuff that happens in downtown before the game, sometimes getting weird looks as we walk hand in hand down the street in clashing colors.
Saturday is here, and it's game day. We go about our pregame rituals until kickoff. She sits at one end of the couch, I at the other. While the game is going one, we rarely talk or even glance at each other.
We both know that regardless of who wins, our marriage will be a happy one starting on Sunday. Today though, we just try to avoid a big fight and enjoy watching Texas win!
While it is just a football game and there are more important things in life, we both take our teams very seriously. While we both take enjoyment in watching each other's teams lose, we always hold on to the hope that our team will win this game and shut the other one up for a year.
For the other guys out there who live in a similar arrangement to what I do: Take solace in knowing that it is only one week you have to put up with the torture of being married to a rival—and take perverse enjoyment of rubbing it in when your team wins.
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