Welcome to my football confessions. Now brace yourself, some of these are shocking. And I would apologize for them, but… I can’t. They make up my football persona. So here we go.
Confession 1: I’m a terror on Twitter.
In all fairness, I’ve made a conscientious effort to improve on this front, but sometimes I tend to get a little carried away while watching football. And sometimes, when I have access to my phone or a computer (and it’s 2015—I always have one or both at my fingertips) I express myself on Twitter. Usually it’s just banter like, “I want to marry Jordan Westerkamp!!!” but sometimes, especially when I’ve had a couple of drinks, I can get a little ranty. This isn’t probably that big of a deal—until the day comes that I drink a little too much wine and tweet “Shut up @KirkHerbstreit” so many times I end up getting blocked. This year, I’ve made a rule that I’m not allowed to tweet anything if I’ve had more than two drinks—or unless I’ve vetted the comment with a friend.
Confession 2: Parody accounts are a crucial part of my game day routine.
When I’m home watching the game, I have @fauxpelini and @MyKriley pulled up on my Twitter feeds so I can watch the game with the jokers. I’m also deeply saddened when there isn’t a new Tunnel Walk of Shame comic the day before a Husker game. I just feel so empty. And no football Sunday is complete without checking out the latest Aaron Rodgers photobomb or Smokin’ Jay. My father tells me it’s sad to have comedy be such a big part of something as serious as football, but I’d rather laugh than cry.
Confession 3: On Game Day I swear… a lot.
Look, I’m not particularly proud of this, but there’s something about a football game that brings out the inner sailor in me. In my defense, I grew up watching football with my dad, which is where I learned a lot of my go-to phrases (i.e. “G—D—Refs!”). And my swearing doesn’t just come out in times of strife. Only a couple of weeks ago, I told a collective fan base to go eff itself while wielding my middle fingers at the TV screen after the Huskers made a particularly exciting first down conversion. My sister told me to calm down. Rather than tell her to go eff off too, I counted to ten. See, I’m growing.
Confession 4: Sometimes I fantasize about writing a time-traveling romance novel starring Clay Matthews.
I’ve addressed this previously in a post (read it here), but here’s my premise:
“A Clay Matthews-like professional linebacker (Go Pack Go) is magically transported back to the Scottish Highlands in the year 1206. (Again, I'm not sure how, because I'd like to be a little surprised when I read this book.) One of the most powerful lairds in all the Highlands mistakes his football uniform as the plaid of a rival clan and declares war. Our football player's life is in danger until the laird's only daughter, a beautiful and spirited young woman, throws herself in front of him and begs for mercy. Naturally they're forced into marriage, he tosses her over his shoulder and carries her to bed a time or ten, and they begrudgingly fall in love only to have time and some other major obstacle stand in the way of their happiness. Let's see if Clay Matthews would be available to do the cover photo shoot.”I’m not sure I could actually pull off writing this book, but I’m desperately waiting for someone else to take the prompt and make it their own. My imagination and I would be ever so grateful.
So there you have it. I hopefully didn’t come off too nutsy (just nutsy enough). If you enjoyed this, I hope you’ll check out my new novel, First & Goal. You can also read my other confessions here.
About the Book
Embroiled in a world of lineups, stats, and trades, Harper’s quest to make nice topples when her competitive streak emerges. And her promise to herself that she’ll be a strong, independent woman and leave the drama and heartache behind is seriously tested when she catches the attention of her two biggest competitors: J.J., a local celebrity determined to win a fantasy championship, and Brook, the mild-mannered coach who seems too good to be true. Both threaten her resolve to remain single… and, more importantly, her chances at winning the prize pool.
With a slew of conflicting advice in her real and fantasy worlds, Harper must figure out how to play the game and come out a winner.
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