DON’T TOUCH THAT DIAL ... : No ifs, but plenty of (tight) ends and butts

Deck the quarterback with relish.

Fa-la-la-la-la. La-la-la-la.

Kill him, smash him, til it’s hellish.

Fa-la-la-la-la. La-la-la-la.

Crush and crunch, annihilate him.

Fa-la-la-la-la. La-la-la-la.

Fold and spindle and mutilate him.

Fa-la-la-la-la. La-la-la-la.

Ah, I hear the gentle sounds on television of the season that is football. The time when men tune in to see the Rams butt the Bears and women tune in to see the tight ends. Nowhere else on the tube can we see such pathos, such drama, such action. Well, not since “Dallas” was canceled, anyway.

I love watching football on television. But there are just a few questions I have that are essential to my enjoyment of the game. How do the players get into those tight pants, and how do they keep those pants so shiny? Actually, when you get right down to it, who cares what the answers are to the questions, just so long as they keep wearing the pants.

Now, I grew up in Salt Lake City in the ‘60s and ‘70s. We didn’t have our own football team. Or baseball team. Or basketball team. Or hockey team. We didn’t have any teams. We had the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Now they sing real purdy, but they can’t play football worth squat.

So, growing up in Salt Lake City, we had to pick the team we were going to watch on TV. And my team was the Green Bay Packers. I picked that team because my two older brothers picked that team and if I didn’t root for that team, they beat me up. Motivation is a very important factor in picking a favorite team. And the Packers were mine. (I still don’t know why they’re called the “Packers.” Are there a lot of meat packers in Green Bay or did they go on vacations with lots of luggage or what?)

I’ve watched football on TV since I was old enough to say, “Change the channel.” I even remember watching the very first Super Bowl on TV. That’s before it was all hype and beer commercials and “The Bud Bowl.” It was pure football! It was Bart Starr and a bunch of big guys who didn’t wear gloves to hold onto the ball. Spit was good enough for them. That was football.

But when all is said and done, women, such as myself, watch football for the biceps and the buns. And, to prove my point, I conducted an informal poll of women who watch football and both of them said that, indeed, they watched football for the fannies. What more proof do you need?

Now, I realize that this “backside” attitude may be a little sexist. But as long as the teams have cheerleaders, I’ll watch the football players’ ends ... defensive or otherwise.