In Which We Attempt To Enjoy The American Pastime

Pig Tossers, How We Love Them

Here is that open football thread we have been clamoring for! The Pollys are ensconced before their 19” Panasonic, enthralled before yet another angelic-wife-drowned-by-husband story on “Dateline,” as Mr. Polly informs me that the Giants are losing, and a proper fan never watches his team lose. (Mr. P is a Yankee fan, so his behavior may be recognizeable.)

I tried to learn to enjoy football once, by reading “Football For Dummies,” and after ten pages of picayune rules about measurements, I realized I hated football more than when I started, but I can appreciate a good catch replayed in slo-mo. Meanwhile, Stone Phillip’s jaw is jutting so far forward it just may break the screen.

So are any great plays being made or anything? It’s not like I’m going to know.

Posted by Mrs. Polly on 01/22/12 at 06:59 PM • Permalink

Categories: ImagesSportsSunday SelectorTelevision

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Giants just tied it up!

The ever-fairweather Mr. P has the game on again, now that the Giants are ahead. Thank God, because Dateline’s supply of murdered spouse stories might have received an addition. Not for the love of the Giants, but for the dislike of Dateline.

To make it interesting, I am cheering for San Francisco much to the dismay of my husband and son who are Giants fans.  Anytime I say anything they just roll their eyes at me. 

I wish Storage Wars was on…

So are any great plays being made or anything?

People seem to like Kushner but I find his work a bit arch.

And they say the amphitheatre is dead!

Mr. Polly, with three minutes to go in the third quarter, has darkly announced that the Giants are going to lose. Evidently four points is an impossible deficit to make up.

Go ‘Niners!!

Wasn’t “Joe Buck” the name of a porno film star in the 1970s?  Anyway, this is not as exciting as Ravens vs Patriots but is pretty tight for all that.  The beer commercials are predictably bad.

Mr. Polly despairing at the 17 yard line, then Manning throws to….Manningham?

Polly household tension decreases by two atmospheres.

Sorry, M. Bouffant.

Now NY is on top again. But still 8 + minutes to go. Basically, this is a contest of experience vs home town enthusiasm.

Mr. Polly, before this latest unpleasantness (field goal), darkly predicted the Giants would lose because “aside from one good play, they’re playing crappy.”

Down the bathysphere goes again.

And now all tied up. ( don’t know whether any of the huddled masses on this site cares or not; just thought I would contribute modestly.

Thank you, Jimbo. We are practicing to be convulsed with pigskin fervor, or fever, two weeks from now, and any help shifting us into the mood is appreciated.

BTW, “Storage Wars?”

Mrs Polly, we’ve got a 21inch Philips that came out in 1970 something (must have, there’s no AUX jacks) so I’m totally jealous of your 19” Panasonic, even though you’re watching fake football on it. ;-)

Rebecca, I did once see a “real” football game, and found the fans’ act infinitely more interesting than the null-null snorefest on the field. I think you folks could watch two old women crochet and have a simply marvelous time singing and chanting and beating each other up.

Mr. Polly: “I told you the Giants would win!”

This is why I think modern football is idiotic. Manning runs to the coach to tell him time is running out, the coach can’t hear him because he is wearing a damn headset.

Whelp, the Giants got the field goal, and the game, so life will be semi-bearable Chez Polly for the next two weeks.

Mr. Polly: “I knew they would! I knew they would!”

Let’s all wonder if God feels short-changed, since His Man is home now, working on his off-season beard, perhaps.

OMG, the Giants beat the 49ers! I was right!

I may need to buy a lottery ticket.

Comment by J. on 01/22/12 at 10:47 PM

I think you folks could watch two old women crochet and have a simply marvelous time singing and chanting and beating each other up.

Hmmm…maybe you’re confusing my real football (rugby) with that stuff in the British Isles (football).

And they say the amphitheatre is dead!

You tryin’ to have a groanworthiness-off with me, lady? You’ll lose. Por ejemplo: I’m not an amphibian, I’m an amphidoin’.

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