If you live in the same world I do, I am sure you have heard this from some of your buddies and even on TV. Guys are complaining because they are catching grief from their wives over man’s love of sports.

We have college sports on Saturday, Sunday double header football, Monday Night Football, Thursday Night Football and football any day of the week where it can be squeezed in between “I Love Lucy” and “The Steve Harvey Show.”

Wives rebel against sitting in front of the tube listening to very large men grunt and smaller men being carried off the field on stretchers. They want to go for a drive and look out the window at trees and view leaf decay.  The mall is calling and there is shopping to do. Mary called and said they are having a fifth birthday party for Suzy and we must attend. You know Mary’s husband has strict orders not to turn on the game, so you consider suicide, but decide to live to fight another day.

Then, some genius started manufacturing player’s jerseys in women’s sizes. Now women can shop and learn a little about the game. “I think I will buy a No. 12 Jersey, I like Tom Brady, he’s cute. What position does he play?” “Quarterback, what’s a quarterback?”  Like I said, be careful what you wish for.

My life is different. I married a sports fan. My wife bleeds burgundy and gold. She has been a Washington NFL team fan for as long as I have known her, more than 50 years. We watch the Sunday games in different parts of the house. I like to channel-hop and she is glued to one spot shouting encouragement to the Washington NFL team. When she gets quiet, I will ask her how the team is doing. If they are doing badly, she gives me that, “No spikka English” look and goes back to the game.

For years, the mention of the Dallas Cowboys might have provoked a fist fight from Mrs. L, but recently things have changed. With Dak Prescott and Ezekiel Elliot carrying the mail for the ’Boys, I find myself checking to see if the madam has smuggled a silver and blue jersey into the house.  With help from the knuckleheads, she has picked up some terminology and considers herself an expert at the game. “Be careful what you wish for.”

I must confess, I find myself shouting, “Go, Zeke,” when he breaks into the secondary.
To be honest, I think they have reclaimed the honor of being called “America’s Team.” The best proof came when they were eliminated from the playoff picture. The NFL reduced Super Bowl ticket prices from more than $4,000 to somewhere in the $3,000 range. Four grand is a lot of cake to have to put out for a football game.  Add another buck fifty, and buy a used car instead.

A recent query revealed that Mrs. L is now rooting for the Pittsburgh Steelers to go the distance. The hoopla over Steelers star receiver Antonio Brown’s recent Facebook Live faux pax is putting just enough yeast into the game to peak her interest. I’m rooting for Atlanta, and I wonder what a Steelers win will do to change the atmosphere in my house.  “Be careful what you wish for.”