I’m no good at being a fangirl. That rabid memorization of metadata – team rosters, stats, trades, rankings – I don’t do well. What I do well is wear whatever jersey you feel I need to wear to bed, as a pseudo-sexual show of appreciation for <insert favorite sports team here>, but otherwise, could care less of the name across the breasticles, as long as the fabric stretches.
My reason for enjoying football is because it reminds me of my childhood. Growing up in the southern region of Germany within minutes of major cities, you couldn’t avoid getting caught up in the hype, the esprit de guerre, the fierce loyalty to team (and country once the World Cup came around). In my region, our team was Bayern Munich. As a teenaged girl, I cheered on their gorgeous, sculpted bodies. Tor! Tor! Tor!
Now I’m attempting a dedication to the Tampa Bay Rowdies! My friend Guy Delaney with the Rowdies got me great seats for last week’s opener, along with a magnetic decal for my truck and two t-shirts to look the part. I faux-hawked my hair, painted bright green and gold on my eyes, then whooped it up at Al Lang Stadium while cheering on gorgeous, sculpted bodies, er, I mean, a dedicated team of professional athletes who proudly call Tampa Bay home!
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