Are You the Wife or the Mistress?

BXTCHES Gotta Warn: So here we are, finishing up week 3 of the NFL season, at least as I write this we are. Now, in case I confuse you at some point during my tirade and you start believing that I’m some sort of a NFL expert, I’m not. I’m actually not even close. Opinionated? Yes, yes I am. But when you start throwing stats and probabilities and whose the best at their position, my eyes may actually glaze over. However, I don’t really think my opinions need to be at the expert level for this post. 

One may be confused by the title of this particular post. And I apologize if you came hear to read an article on cheating spouses and those who love them and those who cheat with them. That’s not where I’m going with this. But we can certainly make comparisons between sports fans and spouses who are loyal and ones who aren’t so much.

So, I ask you, are you the wife or the mistress? Are you the loyal, going to stick by your team in the face of adversity no matter the cost OR are you just in it for yourself, looking for whatever you can get, not caring about the broken hearts left in your wake?

You know, I live in Texas. Well, you probably didn’t know, but there you have it. And not just Texas, I live in the heart of Cowboy country, Dallas Cowboy country to be exact. Growing up, I loved the Cowboys. In fact, me and a certain Danny White were supposed to be married by now (of course, that was after my marriage to Randy Owen failed). On a side note, I recently Google’d Mr. Danny White, and realize that I’m good with the husband I have. I can even admit that I was a Cowboy fan into my twenties. I’m not sure what happened. I did marry a Saints fan, which if I’m honest could be the reason for the switch, but who knows, I don’t really care too much for good ole’ Jerry, even though I do sometimes secretly root for them to do well. But anyways, let’s get back to my question: “Are you the Wife or the Mistress?”. 

I recently had an epiphany. After trolling on Facebook seeing the posts about how your favorite team sucks and how some of you would do a much better job coaching than the ones that currently sport the headsets (I’m paraphrasing there, but c’mon, y’all know you’re thinking it), here’s what I want to say to you: Chill Out! It’s been 2, maybe 3 games, either you’re going to be the loyal wife, whose loyal even when the hubby is having difficulty getting it up and you’re not getting your happy ending OR you’re going to be the mistress, the one whose okay with moving onto the next big dick because he’s the hot one at the moment and getting off is more important than building a relationship. And I know the pain of starting off bad, I live with a Saints fan, who has always remained loyal to New Orleans (I stress on the ALWAYS), and having to hear the complaints and gripes about the Saints from my husband is enough to make you wanna slap somebody. Not metaphorically either, but a real good BXTCH slap!

Here’s the truth: I am not that whiny wife who hates sports. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. I love watching sports, it allows me to spend time with my husband and we get to debate the many things that are wrong with sports these days. And for someone who is so opinionated and somewhat stubborn, arguing is cathartic. I may not understand them all, but I can watch an entire game of some sort and enjoy it. And, probably because of my husband, I love the Mavericks, I NEVER watched basketball prior to him being in my life. I LOVE the Texas Rangers, but that credit goes to my job of working at the Ballpark in Arlington years ago and I was even moved to tears when the Saints won the Superbowl, on behalf of my husband of course. See, I get you.

But with football season kicking off, I have realized something. The relationship one has with their favorite sports team is almost equivalent to being married and remaining loyal or being in a bad relationship with a crazy bitch. Let’s examine:

The beginning of the season starts (usually football) and all is good. There’s hope that every Thursday, Sunday, and/or Monday, your team is going to put out and a happy ending will be putting you to sleep. After the first game, your team loses, there’s a little anger, it’s just ONE night. . .umm, I mean loss, but it’s not really any different than having a headache, it just wasn’t your night. Even though after that one loss, you come to the conclusion that you will not be receiving ANY happy endings for the rest of the season. It’s done, your dick might as well fall off. This, only after one headache. . .sorry, loss. But you realize you’re being a tad bit dramatic, there’s always next week. The next opportunity comes around and DAMMIT, another loss. Now you’re starting to get pissed. What do they not understand? Do they not get your needs? Fuck, it’s almost like they can’t even hear you screaming at the TV, it’s actually unfathomable. But you go to sleep, not well, you are without your happy ending after all. You do manage to get some sleep only to wake up to the insensitive dickheads over at Sportscenter, who insist on nagging you by giving a play by play analysis on why you are not scoring and your team is obviously not receiving this message, from you or Sportscenter.

The next week: SCORE. They win and your body is relieved of the pent up stress from the last couple of weeks. HALLELUJAH, happy ending. In the meantime, your friends and family are constantly on you about how you’re wasting your time on your team. They insist on “setting you up” with their favorite team, it’s a sure thing they say. They heckle and wonder if your happy ending is even good when you do get it? Is it worth going through the pain, heartache, and fighting that you do with your team? Now you’re friends and family have pissed you off. You’ve been with this team since you were a kid, through the good and bad and what does that say about you as a man if you just up and leave them when times are tough. You love them after all. They insist you find another team to give your happiness to. But what they don’t get is this, when it’s good, it’s earth shattering, ROCKS YOUR WORLD good. It’s just when it’s bad, hell actually moves. You start to think that maybe your friends are right, every week you get your hopes up just to find out that Sunday was not your day, again. Your friends still don’t understand, but since they get their happy ending consistently what do they know?

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The “Big Day” is here. You cannot believe that all of the hard work YOU have put in, has paid off. People are where they need to be, you have spent your entire savings on this day. I mean, it’s a once and a lifetime opportunity, right? This day may not ever come around again and your team is worth it. It’s important that you’re there when the ULTIMATE happy ending in all of sports literally explodes onto the field. You want to taste the confetti and you look forward to the day you will be able to tell your grandkids about the greatest day of your life. Then the worst kind of tragedy happens. I mean, it’s what every guy fears on that “Big Day”. . .

They left you hanging. Those bitches didn’t even show up to play (metaphorically of course). How could those bastards treat this like any ole’ day? Do they not get the hard work YOU put in to this day? Once again, they have NEVER appreciated anything you have done for them. So that’s it, you’re done. They can kiss your ass! They better not come back begging for another chance either, NO, they had their chance and they blew it.

You’ve mourned “what could have been” for months. You even played Tiffany’s version (it was your lowest point). But things are starting to pick up. You’ve got a little more pep in your step. It’s looking good for you. You’re even starting to notice “other” teams. You can actually see their appeal. How good will that QB’s number will look on your back? What they can offer you and it looks pretty good. But low and behold what happens next?

It’s September, and that bitch shows up at your doorstep, with her tits and ass hanging out wanting another chance. Do you even put up a fight? Make them explain themselves? Even offer you an apology? NO, you drop to your knees yet again and let them back in. Thus, the cycle never ends and that crazy bitch rears her ugly head while giving all of your friends the big F*YOU!

Now, I can say that I loosely understand your pain. I am a Texas Rangers fan, remember? I know where I was when that asshat Nelson Cruz failed to catch the ball that would have led to a helluva Happy Ending. And, I am a Mavericks fan, HELLO 2006? My heart didn’t heal from that until 2011, so I understand the stress. The funny thing about sports is, lovers come out of the woodwork when times are good and expect the credit for a phenomenal relationship, but they will leave quicker than a teenager asked to wash dishes when shit starts to go bad. You either love em’ or hate em’, just stop dicking them around and make up your mind. Sometimes when a relationship goes bad, it’s ok to sever ties and begin again. But then again, sometimes it’s worth sticking it out and seeing how good it can actually get.

So ask yourself, are you going to be the wife or the mistress? Are you going to be loyal or find yourself in the bed of the one guaranteed to give you a happy ending or will you be starting the cycle all over again come September?

 

 

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