Heaven help us...Hubby purchased RedZone.

Heaven help us...Hubby purchased RedZone.

“Every touchdown from every game. All on one channel, Sunday afternoons,” is the tagline.


I came into the living room last Sunday afternoon to find him pounding on the keys of our computer trying to get into our cable account to add the channel.

“I think we should get the RedZone channel,” he says to me, as if we had discussed this in great depth. “It’s only another $10 a month and then I won’t feel the need to go beat my chest with the other men,” he added.

I think the number of chest-beating men at the local bar and grill where he usually goes to watch the game has started to dwindle as each of them realized it is cheaper to purchase an extra cable-add-on channel and watch the game at home.

That, or the other wives who would rather carve their eyeballs out and put them in their ears to not have to listen to the football game have been adding to their surplus of shoes each Sunday the men are spending money at the bar.

I pushed Hubby out of the chair and within a matter of minutes was into our cable account and had purchased the channel.

“Lord, what did I just do?” I silently prayed.

A few clicks of the TV remote later he was enjoying RedZone.

“This is GREAT!” he exclaimed after a few moments. “We have 15 more sports package channels!” 

I like how he thinks “we” will enjoy this together.

“Does the channel come in down in the man cave?” I asked him after a half-hour of him jumping up and down and yelling at the TV.

“You don’t mind if I run up to the bar to watch the Vikes, do you?” he asked. “I feel the need to be around other chest-beaters.” 

I considered reminding him that WE just purchased 15 more sports packages for HIS viewing pleasure, but realized that having him home every Sunday until the end of the NFL season might begin to cramp my style.

The Sunday previous to this one was a “bi-week” and the Vikings didn’t play. When he wasn’t wandering into which ever room I was in to see what I was doing I was apparently making too much noise to allow him full concentration on whatever game he was watching.

Oh, that’s right. I was bouncing costume ideas for Halloween off him in between commercial breaks of a deciding game on one of his football boards.

In any case the atmosphere in our home had the potential to get ugly.

When he came home after the game this past Sunday I had positioned myself in my favorite chair in front of the TV and hidden the remote. If he wanted to watch more football he would have to go to the mancave.

Remarkably he didn’t, but his sour mood was ruining my TV watching enjoyment. The lights were too bright, the TV was too loud, supper didn’t taste right, he was tired too early...

“Did the Vikings lose today?” I finally asked.

He turned a glare on me that could have curdled the blood of 1,000 cold-blooded reptiles.

Enough said.

“I’m just going to bed,” he grumbled shortly after 8 p.m. “On to tomorrow!” 

Anyone who knows Hubby would know that it had to have been a really bad night if he was wanting to forget it and move on to Monday.

What I learned this week is that I’m no longer on any sort of Vikings fan plan. He considers me a lost cause. Besides, he now has a regular group of chest-beaters and RedZone.

What more could a guy ask for?