Go Steelers

I don't know if football was as big a part of your Christmas as it was here but for someone who doesn't like the game I sure end up having a lot of football around me. The kids are already starting to throw around predictions about who's going to win the Superbowl, usually peppered with comments about how great Tim Tebow and Michael Vick are. Some are saying the Saints will make it again, some are praying about how nice it would be if only the Rams could win. Me? I'm just happy they're all enjoying an activity that doesn't require me to drive anyone anywhere.

During any given dinnertime in our house you can be assured of hearing the subject of football come up at least once until I’ve actually come to be moderately conversant in the language as you can see from the following completely true exchange that happened a few weeks ago.

“What’s your favorite NFL team, Mom?” David asked.

“Huh? Oh I don’t have a favorite. Pass the salt, please.”

“No, come on—what’s your favorite team?” he persisted.

“I told you I don’t have one.”

“But you’ve got to have a favorite. Or at least one you like a bit better than the others.”

“Why? Who says? I don’t have a favorite. None of the teams are in Alaska.”

“But Lillian likes the Colts, Dad likes the Broncos, Grace likes the Jets, Spencer likes the Chargers, I like the Saints . . . you have to have a team too.”

“But I don’t have a favorite.”

At this point, once he realized he wasn’t getting anywhere, he started to beg me to reveal my favorite color combinations that he might thereby discern my favorite team but I was onto him and I was really starting to enjoy his discomfort over the whole issue.

“Come on Mom—pick your favorite!”

Now I could have admitted that I vaguely think Drew Brees is cool and gone with New Orleans but I was feeling particularly ruthless. “Okay,” I said, shrugging and pretending to give up, “The Steelers.”

“NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

All five Mittons dropped their forks and screamed as one in horror.

“Heh,” I thought, “That’ll teach ‘em.”

I know just enough to know which teams I’m not supposed to like and which team would produce the most panic. Which is why I then thoroughly enjoyed rambling through a discourse about Troy Polamalu being the best, the VERY best safety in the NFL (hey, if I’m going to promote the Steelers I have to at least pick someone I can stomach).

They don’t ask me much about the NFL anymore. Go Saints! I mean--Go Steelers!