There are few things in life that will test a marriage quite like devotion to opposing sports teams. Here in the Shane Assylum we are no exception. At no time is this more apparent than during football season. Not only do my husband and I support two different teams, but now our daughter has opted to break out on her own and choose a team to support. It was a sad moment for me, as she chose the Seattle Seahawks :/ But I love her more than anything, and everyone has to learn how to be a devoted fan, through the good times and the bad, so she couldn't have picked a better team to start with. Really. I've been a lifelong follower of the New Orleans Saints. There were no words for the joy and pride I felt as my boys finally took the Superbowl Championship! One day, I hope that my daughter can feel the same for her team (and my son, should he choose a team of his own). My husband, however, has been a lifelong fan of the San Francisco 49ers. Occasionally this creates a very turbulent atmosphere in our home, like back in January, for example. My boys were given the opportunity to crush the 49ers into the ground! Er, I mean, they were to be matched against the 49ers in the playoff game. Same thing. My confidence in my team, as always, was unwavering, so when the trash talk started and someone crossed the line, there was a wager made. It was then determined that IF the 49ers were to win this particular game, then I would buy my husband a customized 49ers jersey and WHEN the Saints claimed victory he would buy ME a customized Saints jersey. I could already see myself opening that package and flaunting my new favorite apparel in front of him. Then the last minute and a half of the game happened. It was an amazing game, to be sure, and I am as devoted to my boys as ever, but sadly, the 49ers ripped the victory right out of the jaws of my beloved Saints. This meant I'd have to buy that cursed jersey. I debated for some time. I tried to justify Welching on the bet since the 49ers decided that snatching the win wasn't good enough, they turned the clock back to take the victory AGAIN. Jerks. But in the end, I just had to follow through. So I managed to bring myself to purchasing his jersey now that we're settled, and as expected, he opened the box and flaunted that eyesore of a shirt in front of me.
He's like a kid at Christmas, and already posting the picture to the Book of Face before I'm even done getting a shot in his back... OF. Of his back, I mean.
I know it's no less than what I would have done (and to be fair, he was WAY more gracious about it than I would have been), but I can't help but think of how nice my jersey will look on me when my boys kick their trash later this year during the Thanksgiving game.