My friend Chad has let me wrestle his column away from him this week on the off chance that I might be able to provide readers with a slightly different take on the sports world. This column is in honor of any less sports-inclined females out there (or males, for that matter) who for the life of them couldn't understand what was so great about Monday Night Football when Laguna Beach was on.
Now, while I've spent many an obsessive hour analyzing the lives of our favorite old friends in the O.C., I am a 100 percent certified sports nut. A sports nut disguised by high heels, if you will. I had a Sports Illustrated for Kids subscription before I ever subscribed to YM. Ask me who the NL MVP (that's baseball) was for 2002. I can tell you. But if I'm being honest, I don't really follow baseball as much as I follow other sports. This brings me to lesson #1: you don't necessarily have to watch every game or every sport to be a sports fan.
Our male counterparts love, I'd even venture so far as to say prefer, that their time spent watching the game with the guys be sans their female companions. That being said, it's safe to say that your boyfriend will never be prouder of you than when you pipe in with "McNabb better come back from surgery next season at full strength or else the Eagles don't have a chance of regaining the NFC Championship and going to the Super Bowl again" while watching SportsCenter with him and the boys.
Lesson #2: Pick a team and make it yours. Though I've been a diehard sports fan for most of my life, I lacked a personal NFL "team" until this year. Through some careful persuasion and manipulation by a few Northeastern friends, the Eagles have become my team. Not a good year for this conversion I admit (thank you, T.O.), but how could a girl resist the teal jersey that I wore on game days? When you have a team to cheer for (and by default, rivals to root against), Monday nights with John Madden and the gang instead of a marathon of Carrie and the gang suddenly seem okay.
So let's apply this to the current sports landscape. It's March. To some, this means coming back from "spring" break in Cabo, less than three months until graduation and massive orders from the new spring J. Crew catalog. To others, it means one thing: NCAA basketball. The Big Dance. March Madness is the equivalent of nirvana for a college basketball fan. For those three weeks, every red-blooded American male sports fan will be glued to ESPN cheering with every ounce of his strength for
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