NFL - National Fanatic and Lunatics

by Tom Edwards

Perhaps no other professional sport elicits more pathological behavior from its fans, and players for that matter, than the NFL. There is a fine line between the good-natured fan and the full-fledged fanatic. Here are a few talking points for discerning whether your loved one is embarking on a long descent into the abyss of NFL lunacy.

More Than One Television for Maximum Pigskin Viewing

Not only do they have the mega-sized NFL select package via satellite delivering a visual read on every game, they have 2 or more televisions set up like a deranged air traffic controller in the control tower of Sunday afternoon psychosis. From their lounger they will sit in their own filth under a catatonic trance as they absorb up to 10 times more blood-curdling, bone-crushing, jock-juking action than any fan should be allowed. If they utilize picture in picture in this wall of picture tubes and their eyes dart around like a starling on crack, the next step is obviously a straightjacket and Thorazine.

2 or More Pieces of Inflatable Furniture

Maybe on an impulse buy your fan purchases a 30-pack of cheap swill for an inflatable chair. However, If he has a semicircle of raft loungers around the TV set then they're a certifiable football meatball who should be red flagged and kept under 24-hour surveillance by the United States government. If a man sits on an inflatable piece of plastic from Taiwan for more than a few hours on any given Sunday, there's a better than average chance he will drive home wearing an empty 12-pack box on his head while listening to "We Are the Champions".

Obsessively Knowledgeable on All Things NFL

When a person knows virtually every player and coach for their favorite football team, it's a sure sign of a solid, knowledgeable fan. But if your loved one knows who the special teams coach for the Giants, the 2nd string center for the Raiders, and the ball boy's name for the Dolphins, then they're using up too much of their mental hard drive on NFL data. Here's a good test: If they can name the 3rd string tight end for the Colts without a tick, but have to stare at a family portrait for a few beats to jog their memory on the name of their first born child then daddy needs to go away for a long, long time.

NFL Supercedes Sunday Service

From the training camp to Super Bowl Sunday, your loved one and Sunday morning services are like Quaker State and water. Paradoxically, the fan petitions the Lord during the season more than any other time of the year. When their team's kicker, fresh off the bus from Guatemala, has to convert on a kick from 47 yards into the face of a driving sleet to send his team to the Super Bowl, they'll get real tight with the Almighty. Minutes earlier the same fan was probably cursing in vile backwards Latin tongues like Linda Blair with corn chips on their face. A lunatic will do that when their favorite fullback coughs up the ball like he was trying to carry a greased pig through the line of scrimmage.

Indoctrination of Children

When a defenseless toddler is adorned in plastic replica football helmets, grease paint under the eyes, and regulation uniform before they can focus within 3 feet of their face, one has to question the mental stability of the parental fan. A kid doesn't want to wear that kind of crap. They like soft things like bunny rabbits and teddy bears and sunlight on the cheek-not the vise-like action of helmets on their tender fontanelles and coarse sand knit football jerseys and having their lips frozen to their pacifiers by subarctic breezes at playoff tailgate parties. This can only lead to one thing. Two words: Premature ballet.

Weekend Diet is Inconsistent with FDA Food Pyramid

By the looks of the fan's food pyramid, he'll be dead by halftime. Where're the fruits? Where're the vegetables? Where're the grains? According to them the fruits are on the opposing team, their wide receivers are soon to be sent the hospital to become lifelong vegetables, and the grains are in chilled cans in the refrigerator. While they cheer on their team, pasturized "cheese" spread slowly collect in their left aorta, indigestible meats build in their digestive tract, and by season's end of the season your fan looks like Jabba the Hut in a St. Louis Rams midriff.

Car Looks Like a NFL Parade Float

The flags, the decals, the magnets, the stuffed animal mascots that suction to their windshields-where does it all end? Their mode of transport is not just a symbol of their individuality, it gives their friends and family an opportunity to avoid them at public places, and their heretical diatribes on their team's performance last weekend, by simply driving on by. I'll bet the owners of NFL franchises don't have their cars as decked out with their team's paraphernalia as the fanatic-and they're not driving an '86 rust bucket, either.