Are you ready for some football?

             If you live in my house, the answer better be yes.  And it’s not because of my husband---though he’s a super-fan too---it’s because I’m a football junkie.  From the moment Super Bowl ends until pre-season begins, I literally feel an enormous void in my life.  Sure, there’s the Pro Bowl and people discussing their fantasy picks, but for six months out of the year, there is a hole where football should be.  And it certainly does nothing for my nerves when there’s a lockout.

I didn’t grow up in a football-loving family.  In fact, no one in my family really watched sports at all.  My stepdad watched NASCAR, but I didn’t really have any interest in that until I lived in Daytona Beach while in grad school at The University of Central Florida.  It’s impossible to live there and not succumb to the ridiculousness that is NASCAR.  And once you get to the race, it’s actually really fun.  On TV?  Not so much.

Somehow, around the age of ten or eleven, I discovered the wonder that is televised football.  I watched religiously on Sundays while I did homework.  I listened to the commentators attentively, trying to learn the rules without having to ask other people what was going on.  And eventually, I fell for a football player in high school who patiently answered my questions.  Since then, I’ve been hooked.

Some girls like to shop.  Ok, most girls do.  But not me.  I’d rather be cooking up an enormous meal for football-loving friends; preferably at least ten of us huddled around the various flatscreens in our house.  On weekend mornings, I’d rather be watching College Gameday (Drooling over Kirk Herbstreit) and NFL Sunday Countdown (Man, I adore Chris Berman) than getting my hair done or having brunch.  Football, is what fall and winter is all about.

I’m so glad this lockout is over and I can move on with my pre-season plans.  And in case you didn’t know, I’m a Jets fan.  I love Mark Sanchez and Rex Ryan.  Brian Schottenheimer is awesome.  And Mike Westhoff is a total badass of a special teams coordinator.

So even though it’s over 100 degrees outside and the fall vegetables I use for my signature Sunday Night Football acorn squash and chicken chili aren’t yet ripe for the picking, I’m dreaming of crisp air and yelling at the TV screen.  C’mon Jets.  This could be our year.  Even if my youngest kid does look like Tom Brady.