Love, Jimmie

A couple of weeks ago we celebrated College Colors Day at work with a tailgate party, corn hole, game day music and bourbon.  And also, you know, college colors.  I may share more of that story with you later (you did note the bourbon, didn’t you?), but it depends on space and how wordy I feel at the end of the story. 

Anyway, College Colors Day got everyone at work in the mood for football which apparently doesn’t take much. These people are serious about their football, and about one hour after we celebrated our favorite college teams over lunch (UK, all the way, GO CATS!), everyone started clamoring about their favorite NFL teams.  Human Resources, the department I work in, began receiving email after email asking for permission to wear NFL gear on Fridays from now until the end of the season.  My boss, after two whole minutes of deliberation, sent out an email that read:  During football season, you are allowed to wear clothing in honor of your favorite college or NFL team on Fridays.  No Steelers, Gators or Ravens attire will be permitted.

What I know about football is this:  you want to score touchdowns, you don’t want to give the ball away, and football players can be hot.  I’m a fan of Kentucky stuff in general because my heart belongs there but last time I checked they didn’t have a professional football team.  I have never had a strong opinion about an NFL team, although I do remember liking the Cowboys when I was younger because my brothers felt quite emotional about the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders (and in my mind, those brothers were the coolest people on the planet), and my Daddy-O taught Emmitt Smith in high school for one whole day in a photography class.  Otherwise, I’ve never given it much thought.

Now I want to fit in with my co-workers and I most especially want to the chance to wear jeans and sweatshirts every Friday for the next few months as I celebrate my team’s victories.  I just don’t know who to pick.  A co-worker, fast becoming one of my favorites, asked me if I would wear a jersey in honor of her favorite team if she brought it for me.  Of course I would!  You know what she brought me?  A Steelers jersey.  You remember who hates the Steelers?  My new boss.  Oh noes!  I sat at my desk, typing away like mad, when my boss, a raging Titans fan, saw me and said this: 

(indignantly) “Jimmie, what are you wearing?”

Jimmie:  (sheep facedly) “A Steelers jersey.”

New Boss:  (jokingly, I hope) “I’m going to have to write you up for insubordination.”

Jimmie:  (slightly defiantly) “Well, I have no loyalties.  This was the jersey I had, and this was the jersey I wore.  If you bring me a Titans jersey, I’ll wear that next time.”

And thus my job was saved.  

That following Sunday, I was invited to the Titans game.  I happily went.  I purchased my own Titans gear, thinking “You know, I live in Nashville.  We have our own team. These fans sure know how to party.  There is a lot of loyalty here.  Maybe I am a Titans fan.”  But then I watched the Patriots wipe the floor with us, and I watched us let them wipe the floor with us without a fight, plus I got sunburned at the game and we all know how much I love the sunburn look on me, therefore I have decided the Titans do not get my loyalty. 

What I’m saying it this:  I need a team, people.  I need to choose a team, all for me, so that I can have a football purpose.  I’ve kicked around some ideas for what is important to me.  If I want to invest in clothing, I could consider cost per wear and go with the Steelers as they have had more Super Bowl wins than anyone else.  But Ben Roesthenesligersnot is kind of a douchecanoe, so the Steelers may not work for me.  If I want to choose local flavor, I’d be all for the Titans but again, how can I support a team who merely tosses the ball to the opposing team and says, “Here.  You look like you want to win.  You can have the ball.”  Madre is especially partial to Peyton Manning so the Broncos are under consideration.  I do like Peyton Manning.  He’s funny, he’s smart, he’s cute.  But that is Madre’s team and I feel like I need my own.

I had a phone conversation with Jonquil about this, and also Ty, and we all agreed that I need to have some criteria for choosing a team.  This is what I’ve decided to look for:  teams with the prettiest colors (any team using the color brown is automatically disqualified) and teams with a hottie player.  I know that all you men and die-hard football fans (Woney and Kindle, I’m looking at you) will embrace my journey whole-heartedly and really help me determine my best choice.  Please send all nominees to my comments section.  Pictures are very welcome. 

P. S. I think I feel like typing more, so I’ll tell you the bourbon story.  First let me tell you about the CEO I last worked for, the man who was ultimately responsible for letting me go.  (This may not be a warm, fuzzy description.)  Physically, he is an imposing man.  He looks oddly like a human version of Shrek.  I like Shrek, kind of crabby, soft hearted, a bit like an ogre.  CEO Shrek fancies himself an Everyman, always wanting to relate to the little guy while still maintaining his status as “Boss”.  Often his conversations and speeches are peppered with warm anecdotes and “I remember when” stories.  He is partial to the sweater vest.  A nice enough man, certainly, but not one you ever get to know, and not one who can separate himself from the awkwardness of being the stereotypical engineer nor having the same veneer that sticks to all politicians.  He’s like a warm yet firm handshake that leaves you feeling like you just got played.  I don’t hate the man.  I’m not even angry at the man.  I can honestly say that if he were on fire on the side of a deserted highway and I drove by with an exceptionally full bladder, I would urinate on him to save his life and it would give me great pleasure to do so. 

Now let’s talk about my current CEO.  I hear rumors that he genuinely cares about his employees and I believe it.  He’s helped me open mail before, when I’ve been overwhelmed, and twice he’s moved boxes for me.  For our potluck on College Colors Day, he brought the following:   baked beans, O’Doul’s, beer pong, and pickles.  He also brought a bottle of bourbon.  His family makes it so it’s decent stuff.  He sold it for a dollar a shot (after lunch only, one shot limit) and he donated all the proceeds to charity.  He’s never once worn a sweater vest. 

Oh, how different is my life now . . . .