How to actually enjoy American football this Super Bowl

Don’t worry football fans, I blame my own stupidity not your stupid game

Maybe you look forward to the Super Bowl all year, your spot at the local bar earmarked weeks in advance. Maybe your family comes over, leaving you squished on the ottoman not really meant for sitting on while uncle Andy insists everyone try his homemade wings sauce. Maybe it’s your annual excuse to drink with your friends and talk too loud, the earnest football fans glued to the screen. Or maybe you sit playing on your phone, a sinking feeling every time you realize it’s not actually two minutes left, it’s 20.

Whatever your ritual is, a single sports game – albeit with a likely earth-shattering Rihanna show –  is one of the biggest social events of the year.

Herein lies the problem. If you don’t understand it, football itself is nearly impossible to enjoy. Stop start, complex rules, seemingly disjointed play; as a non-football fan, I can appreciate it is an intricate game of chess, but who wants to watch people play chess? The NFL itself clearly acknowledges it’s an incredibly boring sport. Why else would they get Rihanna to perform a halftime show?

I am, of course, being gauche. Football is one of the most popular, successful sports. It doesn’t have to appeal to everyone. And whether or not you enjoy the sport itself, who doesn’t love a night of eating too much and repeatedly saying ‘God, I forgot how many bangers are hers!’ But for a game that lasts so long with millions riveted by every play, wouldn’t it be nice to enjoy the sport itself too?

My boyfriend loves American football, specifically Alabama Crimson Tide (roll tide, roll tide). I am not hugely interested in sports, but always get fairly into the World Cup, the Olympics, or other major headline-worthy finals. Yet, football remains out of my grasp. I understand rugby. I get cricket. But the NFL entirely eludes me. Don’t worry football fans, I blame my own stupidity not your stupid game.

For my partner, friends, and frankly sanity, I am determined to enjoy the game itself this year.

“The best way to prove support for your mate’s hobby or interest is to learn the ‘why’ of their passion,” relationship expert Susan Winter told me when I asked how I can attempt this impossible feat. “Why does this sport, hobby, or craft excite them so? What is it they feel when they watch or participate in this hobby? Asking this question shows thoughtfulness and a willingness to learn the key to their intrigue. It will also reveal a finer cut on what makes your partner tick.”

At first, my boyfriend’s response to why he liked football was to simply send me a link to this clip from The West Wing, and said “replace ‘hockey’ with ‘soccer’, and ‘baseball’ with ‘football’”. After a dutiful lol, he said: “Football is the sport I grew up with. It’s the sport my dad tried, patiently, to teach me. It’s the sport my mother and various other relatives have had to explain to me. It’s a touchpoint with a home I said goodbye to a long time ago. It makes me miserable, it makes me furious, and it only occasionally makes me truly happy, and I love it.”

The uncharacteristic sincerity to what was initially a flippant question made me instantly like the sport more. Perhaps, as Susan said, the first step is to simply ask why someone loves something.

The correct solution here would be to spend time properly learning, understanding the rules. This is not going to happen. Over the last few major games I have cooked, made cocktails, ordered takeout, and chatted with friends. The buzz in the room when there’s at least one person that cares about the game is infectious, yet still I constantly check the clock to see if it is time to change the channel or just turn the damn thing off.

When Alabama last played an apparently important game, I even made my own rules. Every time a play lasted longer than 10 seconds, I got a point. Every time the camera cut to someone double-fisting food, I too would stuff myself with food. Occasionally, I took the approach of some Islanders hockey fans and cheered whenever the referee did something, screamed and shouted when they got flak, and rooted for them to win.

My biggest piece of advice to any fellow football haters is this – really get into the last 20 minutes. As far as my clearly knowledgable self can tell, it is trench warfare, desperately gaining a yard of ground here and there. Even if you don’t understand the intricacies, the final stretch suddenly changes pace, a barrage of moves and tackles and passes, and – of course – the carefully planned comebacks are all too common.

According to Susan, it’s fine that I don’t love football. I would, in turn, assume it is fine that my boyfriend doesn’t love trawling through StreetEasy for houses I’ll never be able to afford.

“It’s healthy for each couple to have their own thing. This creates personal growth. It’s also healthy for couples to have a shared interest. This creates bonding. It’s always wise to have autonomy. Healthy relationships incorporate two interdependent people,” she says. “Neither are codependent, and both individuals have their own lives and interests while also merging their time and joint interests together.”

Whether I manage to embrace the tight ends or not, this Super Bowl I will try to at least enjoy the enjoyment of those around me. And when I check my watch for the third time in five minutes, I will remember my boyfriend’s earnest response to why he loves this sport.