Open letter to our downstairs neighbors, in anticipation of the Super Bowl
January 31, 2012Dear neighbors:
By and large you are a lovely couple to live above. I remain grateful that you tolerate my child's occasional bouts of "dancing" (repeatedly throwing himself on the floor) and that you seem to be happy, well-adjusted, and not abusing each other. Sure, you like throwing parties, but as long as the racket is celebratory and does not leave us wondering if we should call the police, we say: carry on with your crazy young lives!
But once football season fell upon us, I have grown increasingly puzzled by your behavior during games. (Matches? Bouts? What are these things called, again?) I must admit that my husband and I, as well as our son, are not exactly "les amateurs de sports," as the French would say. Oh, sure, we enjoy the occasional game of catch-the-ball, and sometimes we play toss-the-frisbee-and-then-CRINGE-AND- DUCK-when-it-is-returned-because-those-things-hurt. But when it comes to watching any activities wherein people fling themselves into other people and try to make their way in one direction or another on a given field, we know little or nothing. Oh, sure, we've attended Super Bowl parties, but that was only for the queso dip. Who can say no when queso dip is involved? And then we've fallen asleep near the queso dip until the host has asked us to leave. Which we have. (After we got the rest of the queso dip into the tupperware container we brought with us in case there was any queso dip left.)
At any rate, as I said, we have some questions, and as we are anticipating that our puzzlement will only increase this Sunday, we'd like to approach the day with some measure of understanding.
First of all, you're going to scream a lot, aren't you. Don't answer that. I didn't even put a question mark on it. We both know the answer is yes. You're going to scream a whooole bunch. Is "bunch" a unit of screams? Don't answer that either. Conserve your energy for the real questions.
Now: While I'm sure it feels good to cheer on your team, you know the players cannot hear you, yes? I'm just making sure. Do you think that if you yell loudly enough you might be helping in some way? This worries me. I'm worried for you.
Also: you do realize it's not you who's playing, right? Because I must tell you, the waves of euphoria shimmering up through our floorboards while you whoop it up seems to indicate that you believe that you are somehow responsible for your team's goal-making. Do you believe that you're remotely projecting yourself onto the field and invisibly whisking your heroes toward their objective? Again: just curious. Also concerned.
And if you're so happy, why is there so much cursing? I can understand the hooting and hollering (sort of), I even get why maybe you might feel the need to stomp on the floorboards until the building shakes (not really), but why must you then cry out "HOLY FUCKING FUCK THE MOTHERFUCKING BITCH FUCK ME OH MY FUCK"?! (I am paraphrasing.) You seem to be fairly even-keeled otherwise, so what is it about SPORTS! that makes you lose your mind and also educate my child even more than he gets educated around here whenever I step on the cat?
Hey, did you hear during that last game, how I was upstairs shouting, "Sports! SPOOOORTS!"? Scott was annoyed me for doing that, but I was highly amused by my joke and wanted you to be as well. I really don't mind that you love your sporting things. I am pretty sure you're insane, but whatever. You're not murdering each other, and this is all I care about.
Finally: will there be queso dip?
Love,
Alice
Reader Comments (60)
I agree with Kristen, and I'm a "fancy university-educated literary libtard" who doesn't like football. This obnoxious little diatribe prompted far more eye-rolling than my husband's rabid fanaticism ever could. Get over yourself, lady.
Thanks for visiting, Dana! You sound like fun.
I am trying to understand the unlikely juxtaposition of "fancy university-educated," "literary," and the suffix "-tard." But what do I know. I just watch the Super Bowl for the commercials.
Keep being funny. I am now reminded just how sorely it is needed.
I'm pretty sure my husband and I (and clearly your neighbors) are the only people in Park Slope that love football. Every Sunday in the fall and winter we can be found screaming and cursing on the couch at the god damn motherfucking miserable Jets, while the rest of the neighborhood is watching King Lear at Puppetworks (or so I imagine).
Sports! For the record: i hate the Giants and the Patsies equally and I don't care who wins the superbowl, so clearly your neighbors and I can't be friends anyway.
The best part of this post is the phrase 'goal-making'.
Tracy, I'd say you should come meet my neighbors, but as they're apparently Giants fans, never mind!
I don't think that I did that trackback thing right, and I apologize. I love your site and even though my household is 100% the people you are talking about, your post cracked me up. The article was my response to someone else who seemed to think I had three heads because I about lost my mind when they planned their wedding shower during the playoffs.
I also could never understand the male ardor for a fall-down-get-up-fall-down game which seems as boring as hell to me.
But...on Feb. 19, PBS is running "Downton Abbey" from 1:00 - 9:00 PM! Ladies, rev your engines!
( Isn't revenge sweet?)
Thanks, Courtney! YOU can come over for queso dip.
I do make a mean queso dip....
Oh Alice. I just *thought* I loved you before, but then you went and called it "queso dip" instead of just "queso" (which is what we call it down here in the South - like "I'll just have some chips and queso") and now I want to fly to NY and squeeze your cheek. Also, I'm going to have to call it quesodip (one word) for ever and ever. Because OMG that is just so cute.
As are you. And this post is hilarious - dont' let the grumpy commenters get you down. They are clearly in need of some quesodiponeword.
We northerners gotta add DIP, lest we think it is a solid hunk of cheese! SO CONFUSING!
Ha! (From a [the?] progressive liberal atheist ex-NYer who doesn't like/enjoy/follow sports and is trapped in Indianapolis.)
I too have often wondered why men are so inclined to yell at a box of wires and thingamabobbies. I guess it's the same when I gasp at the beautiful gowns worn during awards season, however mine is much more dignified, you know- because it's about fashion!
Can I just say thank you to the commenter who threw out "libtard" so I can serve up Conservitard, which should piss them right off.
I do understand the tension for you here--is it worth sticking around the screaming for the snacks? But, in case this tips the scales for you, just think of the places you can have ALL TO YOURSELF during the "superb owl" (as I will be calling it from now on): Costco! Home Depot! All big box retail, really. So if you've been putting off those errands to avoid the crowds, this is your chance.
My kids' piano teacher scheduled their annual recital to coincide with the Superbowl. I'm totally gonna yell things like (to paraphrase you) "HOLY FUCKIN* *UCK THE MOTHERFU*KING BI*CH FUC* ME OH MY ****"?! when they hit the right keys. (Or should that be for the wrong keys?)
I hope there's quesodip.
Of course they're on the team. Why else would they be wearing the team jersey while watching the game?
Now I feel really bad that I bothered my neighbors by screaming "HOLY FUCKING FUCK THE MOTHERFUCKING BITCH FUCK ME OH MY FUCK" during "Downton Abbey" last Sunday night. Ugh.
I'm a woman who is a sports fanatic. I encompass all in your post. Even though we fans are not technically "playing" the game - and we do realize we aren't - we feel as if we are. Sadly we are attached to the sport and yell & scream as if the players can hear us. (You should see me yell during a college basketball game). One thing about the swearing - its a GREAT excuse TO swear! I mean come on! How many times can you say FUCK in one sentence and no one (I mean no one) bats an eye...it is fucking awesome! See, I've started already!! Oh, and one more thing...be glad they're your downstairs neighbors during the superbowl and not your upstairs neighbors!! Enjoy the Queso!!
Go CUBBIES!
oops. wrong season.
Here's how I feel about sports: "Sports? I've read about those."
the end. curtain.
I always get so jealous of these people. Think of all the existential dilemmas they aren't having while going bananas over sports. I want to be like that. But it's too late.
Anita, that is a fantastic point. To clarify, I am not annoyed by them (it's only once in a while, after all), just that I don't understand it. But I do like the idea of having an excuse to scream and swear. Maybe I should look into this "sports" phenomenon.
I enjoy both this post and the football sport. (In my house, instead of yelling, my husband hovers ever-closer to the television, willing his team to victory.)
Full disclosure: I am a fancy university-educated literary libtard. (I assume a libtard is an excellent thing - a library tardis?)
Love you Alice. Continue the funny and the sublime and the sublimely funny.