I love football.
Like, in a creepy way.
Like I draw little hearts around football's name on my book covers and have a poster of football on my ceiling so I can stare at it while I sleep.
But football has one major difference than life: in life, no matter what happened beforehand, if another man runs at you and forcefully throws you to the ground - it is not time to celebrate.
In football, if a receiver catches a first down, or a running back gains ten yards - they always show off. No matter what. Even though they are literally paid to do that exact same thing, they show off. Like if I made a bunch of awesome copies and then started flexing like the Hulk and got in the receptionist's face to tell her who's her daddy.
But even while they celebrate good times, they still just got tackled.
That means that someone else saw them running and dodging people and decided he wanted to pick them up and throw them straight to the ground. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Just get serial crushed.
That counts as a win? Because junior high went a LOT better than I remember if that is true.
In real life, if another man knocks you to the ground like so many Jenga pieces - it is over. Your pride is done-zo. You might as well grab your pocket protector and go home.
But in football, after a tackle - you get in his face and tell him you are better than him.
I guess this attitude only exists in football and can't be translated into real life.
Or at least that's what the receptionist said when she tackled me into the copy machine and asked me "Who's your daddy!"