Fan Struggles to Shift Out of Football Mode

I took my breakup with football season particularly hard this year.

Even though I knew it was coming and thought I was ready, I just can‘t seem to get past it.

I guess it was just the way that it happened. I was lucky enough to attend the Seahawks-Redskins game, and lose my mind with tens of thousands of others.

Then Brett Favre had us all hanging on his arm until bowing out for the last dance. And that final night! It was like a teen movie from the ’80s, with Eli as the unlikely guy-who-gets-the-girl and Brady as the handsome jerk we all love to watch go down.

Molly Ringwald should have been a cheerleader in this story. And then, when we were at our zenith, breathing heavy with emotion and shot through with adrenaline, it was over. Just like that. So I am having a little trouble with moving on.

Usually, the few short weeks between are just enough time to sleep off my NFL hangover, shower up and look pretty for Spring Training. However, this year, something is amiss in my routine. I still find myself up at 6:30 a.m., reading the latest NFL updates.

Why do I care about Michael Boley’s contract status at that hour? I have started to annoy certain friends by insisting on continuing to discuss football. They wave me away and hunch lower over their fantasy baseball magazines. They discuss Final Four possibilities with other functioning members of society. They evolve without me.

I thought I was going to be alright when the Bedard trade was announced. I felt the first stirrings of spring. But it was a tease, nothing more than rumor for weeks. I am too old for that game, too savvy to be sucked in before the ink is dry on the contract.

I ran for the comfort of Ocho Cinco popping off and insincerities from Belichick. I listened to John Clayton podcasts. I watched NFL Live, in the middle of the day. I am beginning to understand the depths of my addiction. My own husband simply stares at me when I try to talk about the latest Seahawk free agent talks and salary cap news. He may be considering an intervention.

Please understand, I want to be better. I want to become a whole sports fan again.

I know somewhere, there are tournament selection machinations happening. Dimly, I am aware that the Mariners’ starting rotation is being hammered out and the bullpen decided.
I have listened, guardedly, to the interviews with our new skipper and pitcher. The optimism is seductive, but I won't give in yet.

I have conflicting emotions about getting emotionally involved with pitchers again. Last year, I finally succumbed to Brandon Morrow and J.J. Putz, but not until July, and by then I was already flirting with training camp. Maybe this year I am waiting for them to come and sweep me off my feet?

Maybe I need a trip to Arizona. Maybe I need to just drive by the new ’Hawks practice facility one more time.