My husband told me the other night that he’d been waiting 28 years to hear me say what I said.
“Are we going to watch sports all night?” I asked.
For several evenings in a row, we sat on the couch together as he flipped channels between basketball, baseball, hockey; basketball, baseball, hockey.
I have been more than a good sport, pun intended, during our marriage when it comes to watching games of all kinds. When we were dating, I spent a lot of time lying with him on the ugly carpet of his apartment watching the St. Louis Cardinals. They were in the playoffs during our honeymoon. I remember I had a bad cold, and I was in and out of a medicine stupor as he watched them play.
I learn a lot when I watch baseball, although I still don’t get all that about earned run average. I just learned that it’s a green screen when you see the advertisements on the wall behind home plate. It’s fun to watch. And, has anyone else noticed that Cardinal manager Mike Matheny looks like Patrick Dempsey, aka Dr. McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy?
The Cardinals are the only baseball team I watch, but I’ll watch any football game that comes on TV. It’s my favorite sport, and I gladly watch and cheer for a team, usually chosen by whether I like the way a coach is acting.
My husband is a golfer, so we have watched scores of golf tournaments on TV. I know the golfers’ names and stories. I know Bubba Watson will cry on cue; I know Rickie Fowler needs to take his girlfriend clothes shopping based on the pitiful shorts she was wearing when he won The Players Championship earlier this month.
Like baseball, golf is relaxing to have on in the background while I’m doing other things.
Hockey, however, is a stressful game as far as listening to the action. The announcers are in full panic voice the entire time, and it makes me a nervous wreck. Not to mention the crazy players. One night, one body slammed himself into the glass in front of the fans after he scored.
My husband marvels at hockey players’ toughness. One had an appendectomy a week or so ago, and my husband fully expected him to play the next night. The guy was back on the ice in three days. My only slight interest in hockey this year was when Tampa was playing, and that is only because on our recent trip to Tampa, Florida, we stayed in a hotel across from the team’s arena. My husband enjoys the alphabet-soup names of the players, too.
Then there’s basketball. I like college basketball a lot more than NBA, but it’s the NBA playoffs. Those athletes are amazing, but it blows my mind that they can make incredible 3-point shots but miss free throws. They’re FREE throws for goodness sakes. I occasionally will call a goaltending or other foul before my husband does. (I was never an athlete, but I am a former cheerleader.) The players have big personalities, too, and show it in their hairstyles and tattoos. I don’t know of another game where I’d comment, as I did last week: “Hey, is that Jesus spinning a basketball on his arm?”
The night I finally had enough of the games, my husband just turned off the TV.
He told me last night — when we were flipping between basketball, baseball and hockey — that he’d been more selective since I’d made that comment.
That’s OK. I think I’m good for another 28 years.
Senior writer Tammy Keith can be reached at (501) 327-0370 or tkeith@arkansasonline.com.