When Your Ex’s Team is in the Super Bowl
When your ex’s team is in the Super Bowl
Who do you root for?
You were never into sports, before
Her team was the first you ever loved
You plan out who takes the dogs
Who gets the cats
Who gets the map you framed from that trip to Florida
But who gets the team
According to the invisible rules
That rule these sorts of things?
Are you even allowed to root for them
Or would that mean
You're refusing to move on?
Would you really want them to win
If it’ll mean wherever she is
She’s celebrating, too?
But if you root against them
Would that just mean you’re bitter?
Would you hope they get blown out
Or would you want them to come so close
Only to royally fuck it up
On the last play?
When it’s all on the line
4th down
7 seconds
No timeouts.
That undying hope of
“We still have a chance to win this.”
But you don’t.
Your quarterback gets sacked
Fumbles the ball
The other team scores.
And then there’s that feeling
like when you can't
breathe.
Maybe it doesn’t matter who you root for:
Maybe they’re destined to lose
Because in the moment
It feels like you both lost, too.
There’s no easy answer for any of this.
You just know far they’ve come.
You remember the high, a few years back
When Jimmy G. stepped in
Won the last 5 games.
You remember your heart sinking the next year
When he tore his ACL
Out for the season.
You could not believe
What was happening.
Backup QBs were called off the sidelines
Names you've never heard of
No time for introductions.
You give those backups so much credit:
Practicing
Showing up
Staying loose
Just in case.
You just wonder
Do they always root for their team
Or do they secretly hope the quarterback gets hurt
So they can finally have a chance
To get a stain on their jersey?
You wish you could know.
Now they’re here: the Super Bowl
So you go to a friend’s family party
Bring along the baked brie
Gameday tradition
It’s all you know.
You just pray the family
Has a dog in the fight
Either team
Doesn't matter.
At least then
You can just cheer along
At least then
You won’t have to decide.
But you soon discover
None of them care who wins
They’re just here to
“Enjoy the game.”
Damnit.
On top of that
There’s the sound of kids playing around the house:
Being kids
Feeling safe
At home
With their
Family.
You can't help but think
This was part of the plan.
Was.
There’s all this emotion
Still, it’s just a game.
Actually, it’s a sport you’re quite torn about:
The culture
The CTE
The drugs
The damage
It’s so confusing
Yet, you can sit with the contradiction of it all
You tell yourself
It’s 60 minutes of play
No matter how it goes
It’ll be over soon.
At some point during that game, though
You start to realize:
When your friend tries to talk to you
About anything not football related
You can’t manage to even pretend that you're listening to her.
On that 4th down when they're going for it
You’re holding your breath.
When they score a touchdown
You’re the loudest one yelling at the TV
As your body jumps two inches off your chair.
It’s involuntary
Because you are a fan
And you realize, it’s okay to root for them
Because they’re not your ex’s team
They’re yours.