How I Enjoy The Football Game Even Though I Can’t Stand Football

Let me be break down my feelings about football. Halftime show = “yes.” Any other point in a football game = “meh.”

But hell if I am going to pass up an opportunity for socially acceptable guacamole overdosing and adult conversation. To that end, I have become an expert at football fake-watching.

Don’t judge, but this Super Bowl, no one will ever suspect me of secretly cheering inside for the team who will end the game before it goes into overtime. I mean, really, a group of PTA moms with whistles could have four quarters wrapped up inside of an hour. Someone get on that please.

Until then, here are five ways I enjoy the game even though I can’t stand football:

1. Assign a player on each team, a toddler lookalike.

Their shirts are riding up, they are falling down every 10 seconds, and having tantrums. You do the math. I picture the face of a toddler from the party on a player on the field and rejoice that I’ve just killed 20 minutes of boredom with pure gold.

2. Shout random phrases at the TV, like, “Where’s the defense?!”

Never gets old. Shout it out at any moment, regardless of what is happening and watch the hardcore fans around you nod in agreement.

3. Tackle the food whenever a play is “under review.”

Translation: Review is the football fan equivalent of seeing your kid’s school phone number show up on your phone. It’s impossible to think about anything else until you know what the verdict is. While hardcore fans are glued to the TV for the coach’s challenge, I hit the food table hard, loading up an Old El Paso taco like nobody’s business.

4. Hire a babysitter.

Goes without saying. A Super Bowl party is always more fun when you don’t have to suffer through the witching hour in public.

5. Get your Snap on.

Snapchat video-pans of a room of people yelling into the TV seem almost fun when you throw on some flattering face filters and a voice changer.

Maybe in my own warped way I do enjoy the game. Today it’s tacos drawing me in. Tomorrow, who knows, I might even start to keep track of the score — or at least care enough to ask the PTA mom next to me.

Brought to you by Old El Paso. Where anything goes on game night.