Atlas
07-27-2007, 03:54 AM
For all the ladies here.
They're called 'tight ends' for a reason
SoCals link: http://denver.yourhub.com/Denver/Stories/Sports/General-Sports/Story~338679.aspx
Contributed by: Sarah Paige on 7/24/2007
Are you ready for some football? If you sang that first line, then you most definitely are. I didn't just sing it, but belted it at the top of my lungs while performing the required exaggerated air guitar. For many other women, however, the song provokes a major cringe, gnashing of teeth and shortness of breath. Quite frankly, I don't get it. Like many of my fellow ladies of football, I'm baffled by the inability of some women to migrate toward the sport. When I sit around at one of those proper female rituals (AKA social engagements...not my favorite to begin with) and listen to the numerous complaints by proper women about their husbands or boyfriends watching too much football, well...yawn.
The typical complaints everyone has heard include, "He won't help me around the house on Sundays," or "He's glued to that television and only talks about fantasy football; what is that?" or, my personal favorite, "I could dance naked in front of the television during a Broncos game, and he doesn't even notice." Well, no kidding! If Matthew Mconaughey or Johnny Depp were shirtless on the boob tube, and your significant other was dancing naked in front of it blocking your magnificent view of Matt's glistening six-pack or Johnny's smoldering eyes, would you notice and want to jump his bones at that very moment? Would you hop up and say, "Honey, I'm so sorry that I'm not paying enough attention to you, let me immediately fix you a nice dinner"? No! You'd slap him upside the head and tell him to get the hell out of the way. Ladies, ladies, ladies ... you're looking at football all wrong. Allow me to offer up two simple words - Shannon Sharpe.
Ladies, ladies, ladies ... you're looking at football all wrong. Allow me to offer up two simple words: Shannon Sharpe
Ah, yes, beautiful #84, retired tight end for the Denver Broncos and currently a sports correspondent for CBS. They called him a tight end for a reason...have you seen it? Trust me ...pure perfection. Yes, ladies, Mr. Shannon Sharpe is perhaps the finest specimen of male virility ever to grace the field: tall, dark, handsome, intelligent, witty and flat out yummy with biceps that should be cast in bronze and displayed prominently somewhere ... anywhere. And, there are plenty of others where he came from - the NFL. Have you figured out where this is going yet? Ummmm...if not, let's play a little game I like to refer to as the female version of fantasy football - key word being fantasy.
Forget about statistics like yards per run, completions, interceptions and sacks. Don't worry about what fourth and inches means unless you're an advanced student of the game. As a beginner, all you need to do to begin is curl up with a cold beer or whatever your drink of choice is and just watch. It won't take long before a fine display of virile, male testosterone emerges. You'll notice a bunch of men in their prime who take supreme care of their bodies and who display their assets in uniforms designed to accentuate the male physique. Clearly, somewhere along the line, a woman was involved in the uniform design, and I sincerely thank her. Continue watching. Soon, you'll discover that shoulder pads are not just for protection against 280-pound linemen barreling down on each other. Oh no, shoulder pads accent the natural contours of a man's broad torso and narrow hips, which are then encased in skin tight pants. Intrigued yet, ladies? Need I say more? Yes? Okay!
About five minutes into the game, the real action begins. Splatters of sweat take to the air and the wide receivers push that extra mile reaching for an overthrown ball. Long, svelte sinewy muscles defying gravity ... ah. Barrel-chested linemen with incredible Hulk-like displays of grandeur egg the crowd into frenzy. And, then there's the best part of all. The huddle. Yes, ladies, an entire team bending over at once and offering all of us a promising sneak peak. If you still haven't figured it out my dear female friends, I'll be blunt. Football is foreplay.
You know the old adage: if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Use the game to your advantage, which can only be enjoyable to say the least. Instead of dancing naked in front of the television in a fruitless attempt to garner attention, put on his favorite team jersey, tie it around your waste, don your best fitting jeans, grab a beer and slip onto the couch next to him barefoot. Trust me; he'll notice. He may even be compelled to take out the trash at half time, unless of course, the foreplay is overheating, in which case a quick romp on the couch wouldn't be unheard of and might actually be steamy and fun. For those of you single ladies sans the boyfriend, think about the pheromones you're exuding when in that passionate and spiritual state. Hit the sports bar where all the single men are voraciously chest-bumping, slide onto a bar stool and confidently display your ardor in any team jersey. You won't be sitting alone for long. Nor will you be alone after shocking the men at work the next morning when at the proverbial water cooler, you simply say, "He was inbounds. That ref's a blind idiot!" (Warning: Google the team before attempting this maneuver and use a realistic comment about the game.) Honey, you don't even have to know what you're saying in the beginning, just walk away with a sway in your hips and your head held high. Eventually, you'll develop the skills and knowledge to go pro and expand on the water cooler banter, but in the meantime - fake it.
This, however, does bring up the cautionary small print. I do feel obliged to inform you of the possible side effects associated with the female version of football. It is contagious. You may just find yourself actually interested in what's going on during the game and understanding the ins and outs of the sport. This can lead to high fives and/or screaming fits of rage at the referees (those guys in black and white striped shirts with the little yellow flags sticking out of their back pockets). Don't despair about this emotional component of the game. It's okay as long as you don't throw anything brick-like or use permanent dye when striping your hair orange and blue (or any other team color for that matter). Gone are the days of lazy Sunday afternoons working on the house or strolling in the park holding hands and playing with the kids. Sundays are quickly replaced by last-minute grocery shopping trips for game-day snacks (another article entirely); and desperate searches for the foam finger (you'll see) and pizza delivery coupons. Also - and this is perhaps the worst side effect of all - off-season withdrawal symptoms. Yes, you may just find yourself with a shortness of breath and gnashing of teeth for a different reason ... the total and complete loss of what do to with yourself during those long Sunday afternoons in the off-season. Don't fret. This too will pass, and soon the weekly frenzied search to retrieve your jersey from the laundry basket will return, as will the knowing grins and sly winks associated with football foreplay. And, don't forget the yearly-added bonus: Adonis-like rookies!
They're called 'tight ends' for a reason
SoCals link: http://denver.yourhub.com/Denver/Stories/Sports/General-Sports/Story~338679.aspx
Contributed by: Sarah Paige on 7/24/2007
Are you ready for some football? If you sang that first line, then you most definitely are. I didn't just sing it, but belted it at the top of my lungs while performing the required exaggerated air guitar. For many other women, however, the song provokes a major cringe, gnashing of teeth and shortness of breath. Quite frankly, I don't get it. Like many of my fellow ladies of football, I'm baffled by the inability of some women to migrate toward the sport. When I sit around at one of those proper female rituals (AKA social engagements...not my favorite to begin with) and listen to the numerous complaints by proper women about their husbands or boyfriends watching too much football, well...yawn.
The typical complaints everyone has heard include, "He won't help me around the house on Sundays," or "He's glued to that television and only talks about fantasy football; what is that?" or, my personal favorite, "I could dance naked in front of the television during a Broncos game, and he doesn't even notice." Well, no kidding! If Matthew Mconaughey or Johnny Depp were shirtless on the boob tube, and your significant other was dancing naked in front of it blocking your magnificent view of Matt's glistening six-pack or Johnny's smoldering eyes, would you notice and want to jump his bones at that very moment? Would you hop up and say, "Honey, I'm so sorry that I'm not paying enough attention to you, let me immediately fix you a nice dinner"? No! You'd slap him upside the head and tell him to get the hell out of the way. Ladies, ladies, ladies ... you're looking at football all wrong. Allow me to offer up two simple words - Shannon Sharpe.
Ladies, ladies, ladies ... you're looking at football all wrong. Allow me to offer up two simple words: Shannon Sharpe
Ah, yes, beautiful #84, retired tight end for the Denver Broncos and currently a sports correspondent for CBS. They called him a tight end for a reason...have you seen it? Trust me ...pure perfection. Yes, ladies, Mr. Shannon Sharpe is perhaps the finest specimen of male virility ever to grace the field: tall, dark, handsome, intelligent, witty and flat out yummy with biceps that should be cast in bronze and displayed prominently somewhere ... anywhere. And, there are plenty of others where he came from - the NFL. Have you figured out where this is going yet? Ummmm...if not, let's play a little game I like to refer to as the female version of fantasy football - key word being fantasy.
Forget about statistics like yards per run, completions, interceptions and sacks. Don't worry about what fourth and inches means unless you're an advanced student of the game. As a beginner, all you need to do to begin is curl up with a cold beer or whatever your drink of choice is and just watch. It won't take long before a fine display of virile, male testosterone emerges. You'll notice a bunch of men in their prime who take supreme care of their bodies and who display their assets in uniforms designed to accentuate the male physique. Clearly, somewhere along the line, a woman was involved in the uniform design, and I sincerely thank her. Continue watching. Soon, you'll discover that shoulder pads are not just for protection against 280-pound linemen barreling down on each other. Oh no, shoulder pads accent the natural contours of a man's broad torso and narrow hips, which are then encased in skin tight pants. Intrigued yet, ladies? Need I say more? Yes? Okay!
About five minutes into the game, the real action begins. Splatters of sweat take to the air and the wide receivers push that extra mile reaching for an overthrown ball. Long, svelte sinewy muscles defying gravity ... ah. Barrel-chested linemen with incredible Hulk-like displays of grandeur egg the crowd into frenzy. And, then there's the best part of all. The huddle. Yes, ladies, an entire team bending over at once and offering all of us a promising sneak peak. If you still haven't figured it out my dear female friends, I'll be blunt. Football is foreplay.
You know the old adage: if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Use the game to your advantage, which can only be enjoyable to say the least. Instead of dancing naked in front of the television in a fruitless attempt to garner attention, put on his favorite team jersey, tie it around your waste, don your best fitting jeans, grab a beer and slip onto the couch next to him barefoot. Trust me; he'll notice. He may even be compelled to take out the trash at half time, unless of course, the foreplay is overheating, in which case a quick romp on the couch wouldn't be unheard of and might actually be steamy and fun. For those of you single ladies sans the boyfriend, think about the pheromones you're exuding when in that passionate and spiritual state. Hit the sports bar where all the single men are voraciously chest-bumping, slide onto a bar stool and confidently display your ardor in any team jersey. You won't be sitting alone for long. Nor will you be alone after shocking the men at work the next morning when at the proverbial water cooler, you simply say, "He was inbounds. That ref's a blind idiot!" (Warning: Google the team before attempting this maneuver and use a realistic comment about the game.) Honey, you don't even have to know what you're saying in the beginning, just walk away with a sway in your hips and your head held high. Eventually, you'll develop the skills and knowledge to go pro and expand on the water cooler banter, but in the meantime - fake it.
This, however, does bring up the cautionary small print. I do feel obliged to inform you of the possible side effects associated with the female version of football. It is contagious. You may just find yourself actually interested in what's going on during the game and understanding the ins and outs of the sport. This can lead to high fives and/or screaming fits of rage at the referees (those guys in black and white striped shirts with the little yellow flags sticking out of their back pockets). Don't despair about this emotional component of the game. It's okay as long as you don't throw anything brick-like or use permanent dye when striping your hair orange and blue (or any other team color for that matter). Gone are the days of lazy Sunday afternoons working on the house or strolling in the park holding hands and playing with the kids. Sundays are quickly replaced by last-minute grocery shopping trips for game-day snacks (another article entirely); and desperate searches for the foam finger (you'll see) and pizza delivery coupons. Also - and this is perhaps the worst side effect of all - off-season withdrawal symptoms. Yes, you may just find yourself with a shortness of breath and gnashing of teeth for a different reason ... the total and complete loss of what do to with yourself during those long Sunday afternoons in the off-season. Don't fret. This too will pass, and soon the weekly frenzied search to retrieve your jersey from the laundry basket will return, as will the knowing grins and sly winks associated with football foreplay. And, don't forget the yearly-added bonus: Adonis-like rookies!