Seahawks, and Niners, and Redskins, OH MY

In case we've never met and you don't know this about me, I'm a Seahawks fan. Born and bred in the Pacific Northwest, it's in my blood. My blue and green blood.

Of course, I married myself a nice, handsome boy from the Bay Area, which resulted in me marrying a Niner fan.

That's right. A Niner fan.

But after many years of watching all the Niner games, along with the Seahawks, I developed a twistedly (twistedly, because these two are MAJOR division rivals) strong affection for that Northern Californian team. I really do like the Niners.

Of course, when Seattle plays San Francisco, the gloves come off, Chris and I trash talk from the second we get up in the morning, and we manipulate and bribe our children into rooting for a particular team that day.

Obviously, the Seahawks are having an awesome, thus far undefeated season, and I'm loving every second of it. Football season is just . . . so freaking FUN.

And then, quite unexpectedly, a co-worker and I were offered Redskins club-level seats from a printer we work with. The tickets included a parking pass and access to the pre-game tailgate and post-game party. I jumped on two of the tickets and arranged a babysitter for Sunday. 

We had a fantastic time. Our parking pass allowed the sea of fans to part and gave us access to pretty much the best parking EVER. Seeing as how this was our first time getting around FedEx field, it was a major bonus. We then accessed the pre-game tailgate where free food abounded, beers were half off, cheerleaders stripteased (almost) for us, and the marching band marched on through. 

At one point, I called my dad. "Dad, Chris and I are the only people here not wearing Redskins jerseys," I said. 

"THAT'S OKAY," my Seahawks-fan dad, who still has nightmares (literally) about Super Bowl XL, firmly replied.

And when the cheerleaders weren't signing autographs for wide-eyed (male) fans, they, as I mentioned before, performed on a little stage set up under the tent. 

I tried to keep an open mind. "They're very pretty," I said. "And very good dancers."

Chris smirked. "Sure." 

They continued to dance. If that's what you call shaking your ass while moving up and down while keeping a giant grin on your face to make us think you're enjoying this. "Actually," I said after a minute, "I feel like I'm at an outdoor strip club. I mean, I've never been to one, but this is pretty close to what I'd imagine it to be like."

"Pretty much," Chris, who has been to one, confirmed. 

Then, after another minute, "Honey, I don't want Charlotte to do cheerleading."

Chris laughed. "Man. All those girls---"

"Women," I corrected. "I mean, barely, in some cases, but still . . . . women."

He sighed. "Fine, all those women . . . . they all have dads, don't they?" 

I didn't have to say anything else, but yes, I clapped and even cheered a little as they finished, because you know what? It's pretty ballsy and brave to dress like that, dance like that, and perform in front of a slightly creepy group like that. More power to them, if that's how they roll.

 Anyway, we had such a good time, just hanging out---just the two of us!---with no kids. Doing some thing fun and totally out of our usual routine was refreshingly fun, too. And the perfect sunny weather didn't hurt.

Finally, the game started, and we realized our seats were awesome. Then the Redskins proceeded to lose.

I was, to the horror of the Redskins fans around me, super excited when I saw David Akers, the doomed, former-49er kicker now playing for Detroit, kick multiple (successful!) field goals. I felt SO BAD for him last year, as he struggled and struggled. I couldn't even watch when he was kicking. I genuinely worried about how worried his kids, wife, and parents must have felt when he walked out onto the field to attempt another field goal. (Yes, I worried about worrying.)

It's usually at this point that Chris points out what players are paid and why I shouldn't care so much. 

I totally disagree.

"What the heck?" my die-hard Redskins-fan co-worker said, when I thoughtlessly squealed and cheered for my buddy, Akers. 

Chris shook his head. "She has this thing about David Akers. I can't explain it."

 

We left a smidge before the game ended and skipped the post-game party, seeing as how we had the kids and babysitter to get home to. We had such a great date-day, and it made me a little wistful that we NEVER do this sort of stuff! Ever! But this time we did. Small steps, eh?