This book is dedicated … to those women who cope with kids six days a week and when it’s Daddy’s turn on Sunday–find him long gone to the stadium or equally long gone in front of the TV, watching football from August to January.
All this is generally bad news for American Womanhood.
Definitely. That a woman should be expected to take care of the kids solo all week, and then when their dad has a single day of responsibility there, he still manages to find a way to dick off? That is terrible (if not uncommon) news. It’s not good for a woman to have sole responsibility for homemaking in what is generally accepted as a domestic partnership, and it’s not good for kids to grow up seeing manhood modeled by a guy who can’t be bothered to participate in said partnership.
Except this isn’t commentary on contemporary women’s issues circa 2011–it’s commentary on American football (or, as I like to call it, God’s football) circa 1966. Bird’s Eye Vegetables’ “Ladies Guide to Football” teaches you enough about football to “ask your hero intelligent questions” so he’ll let you hang out with him while he watches football.
And that’s what all women want, isn’t it? Not to be left out of things or, Heaven forbid! ignored.
As the gendered, outdated guide to Good Wifehood that it is, this book is kind of funny/sad. But simply as a guide to God’s football for the uninitiated–without the gendering–it’s actually pretty good. It translates the refs’ arcane hand signals, gives an illustrated rundown of various player positions, and provides a glossary of football terms that don’t really self-define. I know more than a few guys who would benefit from a book like this, because they don’t really understand the game but have to pretend to avoid being unmanly. And the design reminds me of a reading book I had in elementary school.
Now, as a proponent of watching games at the stadium whenever possible, I was glad to see author Pat Kiley making that case for me. But her reasoning goes somewhat beyond the roar of the crowd. During halftime at the stadium, you get to
… make a beeline for the refreshment stand, hunt for the ladies’ room, chat with friends, check who’s with whom, and who’s wearing what, or simply enjoy the half-time show.
But if you watch the game at home,
… your half-time is usually spent on KP! Many a stew has been stirred, casserole checked, or dinner table set during these 15 minutes.
So to avoid having to use some of the heinous recipes in the booklet, pack it up and get to that game. If you’re worried about what to wear–you sporty fashion plate, you–there’s a section on that, too, although the Arctic Explorer parkas seem a bit much for most southern football games, even in the postseason.*
One thing to remember is that this book is over 40 years old, and as such it could use some updating. For instance:
“Tip: Few men know the exact width of the field.” Tip: Few men, or women, really care. Ditto the date of the first pro football game. If you want to cram meaningless football trivia into your head for the sake of impressing someone… don’t. Save that brainspace for trying to understand what the ref is announcing as it echoes around a crowded stadium, or remembering where your car is parked.
Tailgating should begin no later than four hours before kickoff. For noon kickoffs, this means early wakeups and creative food ideas. Early tailgates are made for mimosas and Chick-fil-A chicken biscuits, and the hole in the middle of a doughnut is perfect for stacking them on the neck of a beer bottle.
Beware your traditions and superstitions. I once ruined an entire season by changing my standard quesadilla recipe in honor of Georgia backup quarterback Joe Tereshinski. That’s a mistake football fans of every sex and gender will want to avoid, if only in the name of family harmony. Sorry, Doug. No, I really am sorry.
Anything I’ve missed?
*I have to say, I was kind of tickled by the Stadium Fashion section, probably because in the SEC sundresses are par for the football-watching course. (A friend of mine tweeted from a game in Michigan, “There are girls here wearing sweatshirts!“) Now, of course, I’ve grown–Okay, yes, I still wear dresses to Georgia games. Old habits die hard. Go Dawgs.