Seemingly, about this time of year, I always find myself uttering the words, “But I took football stats in high school…” at least once.

I mean…who cares, right? As soon as high school is behind you, those activities you were involved in go up in a cloud of smoke. Being student body president of a student body with 250 people in it meant virtually nothing at the time, and means even less now.

Still, I sometimes feel the need to defend myself should I ever display any minor football knowledge. As a woman, I feel like I am at a disadvantage when it comes to sports. I see most women falling into or being placed into one of two roles.

1. Sports Ditz

Why do these guys get the ball now?
Whoa his ass is hot in those pants.
Can you show me how to swing this bat?
Whoa his ass is hot in that Speedo.
Why don’t those points count?
Whoa I wish his pants were tighter so I could see his ass.

The image of women that warrants Craigslist ads from guys offering to teach them the
rules of football in exchange for a blowjob. Yes, that was a real life ad in the Cedar Valley.



Kobe had 3 NBA Championships under his belt by age 28 and Lebron only had 1.
Tiger was the youngest person to win the Masters AND the British Open.
Did you know Brett Favre’s first ever completion as a Packer was to himself?

The tomboy? Are these girls trying to impress someone? Maybe, maybe not.

I was watching a game with some sports ditz friends and some one-of-the-guys mega sports fannnnnnnnns friends once and I casually mentioned that oh, they could probably go for a safety, when I was met with,

“Wow, Kayla, way to throw out some sports lingo, proud of you!”

Offended, I throw back, “But…I took football stats in high school…”

My only defense mechanism. Umm, I know some sports lingo! Why must I either be totally dumb about sports or be screaming at the top of my lungs at every play? Can’t I think that a guy looks smoking hot in football pants but also know his role on the team? I may not be able to recognize a personal foul as it happens but at least I know why someone’s punting the ball.

I just want to have the casual air of Erin Andrews and Pam Oliver, but I don’t really need that much knowledge.

I think I managed to portray this yesterday on Superbowl Sunday, even though it was so horrible I wished I would’ve stayed home to watch videos of babies eating sour foods. Or starting the next book on my Book to Big Screen Challenge since I finished Wild. BUT more on that later this week!