A Man for All Seasons

A man for all seasons.* That’s what every woman wants to have, and every man wants to be . . . right?Well, I found a man for all seasons. As it turns out, they’re all NFL seasons.

My man for all NFL seasons is not an NFL player about whom I fantasize. No, Eli Manning, I don’t care if you have the keys to NYC now and a boyish smirk. No, Tom Brady, you're not for me, even if you could catch AND throw (I suspect you're relieved, Gisele).

No, my man for all NFL seasons is nothing of the sort. He is a man who probably could have been an NFL player given his height, broad shoulders, natural athleticism and unwavering drive, but he’s tackling a more challenging field altogether, as a writer, publisher and globe-trotting adventurer.

My NFL man and I have been texting feverishly about NFL football for over three years now. In fact he was the one who disabused me of my excessively blond and bigoted notion that football was nothing more than an overly-commercialized outlet for wide-bodied male dummies who consume too many carbs. When he eloquently explained the origins of the game at Yale* and the complexities of the strategies required, I realized I had been dismissing this sport too quickly.

We watched the Saints defeat the Lions in New Orleans in early January of this year. It was then I realized I would encounter few men with the same in-depth knowledge and passion for the game complemented by the ability to articulate both. Fortunately for me, his capacity for expression deviates aggressively from any other male football fan I have ever met.

While the average American football-loving male retreats into a man-cave during the NFL season, regressing to monosyllabic words and reverting to college drinking habits, my man becomes an über-communicator, texting and calling more in a single quarter of a game than most men would in an entire fiscal quarter.
He expresses his emotions through his favorite teams, their victories and defeats. The Saints win, he is effusive (heck, who wouldn’t be? Did you see how many records Drew Brees blew through by mid-January??). The Saints lose, he is despondent. In sympathy, I watched the first half of that play-off game against the 49ers too. I thought the Saints might have suffered from an overdose of barbiturates as I watched them play; but, no, they were sober through every single one of those FIVE turnovers. We’re still getting over the Saints’ loss and, for all I know, it will tear us apart, as I ambivalently bask in the glory of the Super Bowl victory of my second favorite team, the Giants.

The NFL season is over. The Giants’ victory parades have concluded. As I reflect, I don’t know what's more disappointing, the Saints’ playoff loss or the loss of my NFL man. I know I have no reason to mourn. After all, the 2012 PGA season has already kicked off, so now I can anticipate highly structured and adrenaline-filled weekends with Luke Donald, Phil Mickelson (who’s really looking good since he lost the man boobs) and Rory McIlroy. But will it be the same?

Frankly, I don’t know what my NFL man does on the off season. I don't know who he texts or whether he texts as often as he texts me. I know when we reconnect, sometime in October when the new season truly gets underway, I will wonder, for a moment, where he’s been.

So, you see, he is not a man for all seasons, but a man for all NFL seasons. That should not belittle his role in any respect. Maybe I am not the woman for all of his seasons either. He tends to summer in Greece, the Ukraine and other Mediterranean spots where I would freckle instantly and have difficulty locating a proper golf course. Maybe I am no better at seasonal flexibility than he is.

So, yes, there will be an estival pause of sorts in our NFL romance and maybe he’ll resurface next season with a girlfriend or wife in tow, yet I firmly believe he will maintain his loyalty, even if only for the NFL season. And for that, I am strangely grateful.


Notes
*If you recall, the man for all seasons is the ultimate man of conscience loved by all family and friends. The play by Robert Bolt is based on the true story of Sir Thomas More who, in the 16th century refused to support King Henry VIII’s divorce from his wife Catherine of Aragon in order to marry a younger gal, Ann Boleyn.
*Walter Camp, who enrolled in Yale College in 1876, is widely considered to be the most influential figure in the development of the American football and is known as the Father of American Football.