Dear Colts,

I’m so sorry that I have to write you this letter… I had hoped it would never come to this. I had hoped we would be able to have a long and happy fan/team relationship… me watching you on TV, and you always winning for me. Sadly, someone (a-hem) has not been holding up their half of the deal… someone has “dropped the ball”, you might say (in more ways than one). I gave you a chance… five or six even! I hoped beyond hope that it was just a fluke… that Payton was just feigning injury and would be rejoining us mid season in a surprising upset that would take the media by storm.

I was sadly mistaken.

It wasn’t always like this. There was a time that I hardly knew football was a sport. Sure: I could pick a pig skin out of a pile of other various athletic equipment…  but when it came to the actual rules, I was like a baby in a chemistry lab: a danger to myself, and all those around me.  Yes: I admit it… I used to even be one of those people who watched the SuperBowl for the commercials.

I used to be, but things have changed.  Several years back, I was introduced to the concept of being a “fan” of a sport. First, I attempted to like golf (but that lasted about 1/2 game while Marta and I were house sitting for a neighbor of ours). I moved on to soccer (while in college), and even watched an entire game of basketball at Taylor University.  We won, and I was relieved, but still very much lacking in the “fan” department.

It wasn’t until 5 years ago that I first heard your team name. Payton had been to visit my brother in the hospital and brought pizza. There’s something about free food that always makes me feel a little more fondly toward people.

Now, I won’t say that it was “fanship” at first sight… the first few games I watched were a bit confusing… it seemed like chaos with lots of talking and replays in-between. I went to my first highschool football game in ’08, when many of the rules, concepts and strategies of football were explained to me.  That was about the same time our family begin to regularly watch the games.  Not every football game that was on TV, mind you… but, if the Colts were playing… and we didn’t have anything else to do.  It took us a while to pick out any players besides #18, but slowly (one by one) we added new players’ names and numbers to our vocabulary.

I can still remember the day I secretly promised to be an official Colts fan. It was when you were playing in the SuperBowl against the Bears… you took the field by storm and beat them. I remember thinking: hey, I could be a fan of a team that wins. Even though you couldn’t hear my silent thoughts, dear Colts, I somehow knew that we had come to an agreement: you win, and I’ll watch.  And so, dear Colts, we begin to watch EVERY game. It started to not even matter if you lost every once-in-a-while (or “accidentally” gave away a SuperBowl *ahem*)… as long as you had more wins than losses, I was happy and we could move forward as friends.

And we did, dear Colts. Remember the good old days? Remember when we would turn on the TV and you would scare us for a quarter or two… but ALWAYS come through for us in the end?  Those were the days. Days of bliss: days of happiness.

Sadly, those days are behind us. Last weeks’ loss threw me over the edge. I tried to give you one more chance, but today’s exhibition was simply embarrassing.  I am literally at a loss for words.

 

 

 

 

See? I didn’t write anything for 4 whole lines. That’s how upset I am.

And so, dear Colts, it is with no small amount of sadness that I announce to you: due to Painter’s inability to throw a football, Peyton’s poor neck, a series of losses as long as my arm, and Collie’s WAY too tight jersey, I am going to have to announce to you, and to the world: I am now a Fair-Weather-Colts-Fan.

With deep apologies,

Paula

I would like to add, that if you would like to start WINNING games, this could all be behind us. I will watch the games and cheer for you. Until then, I may occasionally check the score online, or sleep through the game (to spare myself from the agony). Now it’s up to you: I’m ready to welcome you back. All you have to do is win.

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