No, no I’m not talking about that mind blowing romance movie filmed in the nineties; I’m talking about relationships and sports. We all know that some couples have sports in common, there are the pairs that play co-ed rugby, the lovers that watch the Twins avidly as if missing a game would constitute as a cardinal sin, and the kinds who are often on the verge of breaking up because one is beating the other severely in fantasy football. But I come from a rare breed of girls, the kind who would rather chew their own arm off than sit through watching any type of college or pro sports, so why is it then that every time I start dating someone they end up being a sports fanatic? Is it my smell that attracts the men who can’t get enough football pads and basketball jerseys or is the universe trying to tell me I should invest more time in learning the rules of Americas most beloved sports?
It must be my smell. Now I don’t want to come off as if I am prejudice to those who love everything regarding balls of various sizes, nets, pads, point systems and overpaid athletes, its just that I don’t want to be subject to this kind of torture on our first couple of dates. That would be like me making someone sit through The Way We Were, listening to me gush over how sexy Robert Redford was back in the day and hearing me obnoxiously sing along with Barbra Streisand, “People, people who need people” over and over again because I have yet to learn anything past the chorus.
To me that is a good time, something I do on a regular basis, but if on a first date I made my lucky beau sit through that he would be more willing to look for that lost needle somewhere under a damn haystack then try and find a way to enjoy himself in my obsession.
My issue with sports and dating began about three years ago when I met a man at a bar in the cities, (and yes that would make me a very old student) conversation flowed easily and he was a true gentleman to say the least. He got my number and set up a date for coffee. The coffee date came and I found that he was an athletic trainer for a professional sports team, and because I was training as a massage therapist at the time we were able to enjoy hours of talk regarding muscle tissue and anatomy. Our next meeting was dinner at his place the main course being chicken and mashed potatoes, this was definitely the man for me. I can barely keep toast from burning let alone cook an entire meal, so I thought this relationship was off to a good start…and that’s when it happened.
Just as we sat down to enjoy this wonderful meal, the TV was turned on and flipped to the Sunday football game. I guess the best way to describe our dinner together would be that we had lively intelligent conversations during the commercials, and the rest of the time I sat wondering whether I was suppose to know the names of the players he was yelling as if he had an earpiece on and was pacing the sidelines while throwing the clipboard down like a five year old having a temper tantrum. Long story short we never made it past the second date.
Now to clarify, so that I can avoid getting hate mail from university athletes and die-hard sports fans, I am not dissing sports. As a matter of fact I would consider myself an athlete, but when dating you have to look for entertainment that would suit both parties, not just one. Sure, if I was seeing someone for a long period of time I would be willing to watch a game or two, just like if I loved someone I would be willing to take a bullet for them. I would do it, but I never said I would enjoy it. Remember there is no ‘I’ in ‘Team’.
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