Team Who?

"Pig Sooie!  Wooooo Pig Sooie!"  What the hell?!?  Is she talking to me?

Maybe I know this person from middle school, but I don't think so. She's being awfully rude with the pig reference. Then she pointed to my shirt with a smile. "Are you from Arkansas?"

At some point in our marriage, my husband decided it was necessary for me to wear clothing with logos that promote his sports teams. While I consider myself fairly athletic, I do not and never have followed any college or professional sports team. Mostly because I have better things to do. Like nap. But here I was, once again, caught off guard, feeling like a tropical bird in flashy feathers attracting a mate only to disappoint the suitor. My University of Arkansas t-shirt succeeded in attracting a Razorbacks fan who wooed me with the trademarked "Hog Call." I had never heard it before. "Oh, what? Me? No, my husband is. He's the Razorbacks fan. I just have a shirt." The rejection. The apologetic smile. A parting of ways. Damn, I hate that. This isn't the first time this happened. On the trail near my house, I was strolling one Sunday and a stranger walking his dog said to me, "Are you ready for tonight?" I hoped he was flirting. "Excuse me?" I questioned coyly. "Your shirt. Tonight's game. Are you ready?" I was wearing my San Francisco 49ers shirt. Not flirting. "Oh, that. Sure," I said, and gave him a fake-enthused thumbs up. Whatever. I didn't know the Niners were playing that day. Turns out it was Superbowl playoffs.

Strangers approach Marty all the time in public when he is wearing his sporty garb. They gush and bond over their beloved team of choice. They exchange words I don't understand like "Orange Bowl" and "Kaepernick." Sometimes quietly in passing, they share an intimate nod of the head or a tip of the logo'd cap - a silent acknowledgement between lovers...football lovers. It's weird. Marty doesn't speak often, but I have seen him converse with strangers in the grocery store at length about defensive strategies or argue the merits of a coach. But the opposite happens to me. Someone asks me cheerily, "How do you like Russell Wilson this year?" and I reply in earnest: "Who?" with a Seattle Seahawks logo blazing from my chest like a beacon. Inevitably they point at the logo while I stare blankly. I am the killer of friendly conversation. I have learned to say "My husband's team. Go team!" shrug, and flash the apologetic smile before they do. I really should watch more football.

Wearing my 'Niners shirt at Candlestick Park, San Francisco, 2012. Go team?