Thankful I am NOT a Jets Fan this Thanksgiving

I really don’t think it’s too much to ask that if I take my daughter to a football game, we walk to get a pretzel and some nachos without being harassed by a drunken mob. Call me crazy, but I’d love to actually sit near Gate D at a New York Jets game and not be groped or screamed at or if, heaven forbid I’m feeling prudish that day, have to duck spit and flying bottles from hundreds of angry men.

Of course my daughter and I could just sit somewhere else. We could go get Mommy a beer and kiddo a hot dog near some other, non infamous gate, and avoid the whole thing- and then I remember this is 2007 and women do have the right to walk in public.

I suppose if I were to take my daughter and I on over that way, I would have been asking for it, right?

And people wonder why I still yell and scream and write about women and gender equality.

Many sports fans (my entire house included…yes, the girls too) are discussing the New York Times article by David Picker describing what happens at Jets home games on pedestrian ramps near Gate D.

Huffington Post contributor Leora Tanenbaum says, “I hate to sound like a broken record, but the sexual double standard is alive and well. Boys will be boys, and girls will be sluts. And across the land, people continue to believe that this is the way it’s supposed to be.” Tanenbaum drew attention and questioned the behavior while commentors asked for proof.

Let’s watch some YouTube, shall we???

As the NYT reports, this whole Gate D party is a tradition at Jets homegames. Meaning, Joe Jetsfan brings Joe Jr. Jetsfan, they share a beer, and join the mob out in the concourse to see how many women they can get to lift their shirts. Tradition. Happy Thanksgiving.

Some women comply. Some women walk away clothed and get heckled. Some women are spit on. Some women have bottles thrown at them. Some women are groped. More importantly…

hundreds of men think this is ok.

I attend sporting events. I am used to the one or two drunken idiots who scream four letter words and spill their beer. Security usually hovers near them and if they get out of hand they are escorted out. There is an entire mob getting out of hand at Jets games, and it’s tradition.

It’s Free Speech! We’re just having fun! Don’t come near Gate D if you don’t like it!

Let me speak in words you Gate D Jets fans understand, “Fuck you.”

Free speech is not harassment. Fun isn’t intimidating. And I’ll go anywhere I damn please, despite the fact I’m a woman. In fact, how about I come with a few thousand of your mothers, grandmothers, daughters, sisters, aunts, and girlfriends? We’ll exercise our free speech to teach you all about mob mentality, harassment, sexual abuse, intimidation, and gender equality issues.

I called Jets’ media relations to float my idea of taking Gate D back for the women. The nice PR phone-answering person took a message and I told them I was working on a deadline. “Yes, the HUFFINGTON POST, no, no…not Hubbington, HuFFington…and yes, BlogHER dot com. H-E-R, yes, BlogHER, yes, a network of over 13-thousand WOMEN…yes, I’d like to talk about the NY Times article, yes, the one about Gate D…yes, Blog H-E-R…”

…I’m still waiting for a call back. In the meantime, I’m going to really mess up Thanksgiving tradition and NOT spend it in the kitchen.

The Detroit Lions kick-off in an hour and my daughter and I have a game to watch.

Queen Drafts Dreamy Teamy 2007

I’m such a fucking GIRL.

I say that with pride. I say that, also, with some disdain.

Our fantasy football draft was tonight (the Blog Pound) and in the late rounds I got stupid and ended up with the All-American, Hunky QB team. I didn’t mean too. But in the end I was feeling frisky and silly and when that happens my teams tend to suffer. I pick the guy who’s wife just got cancer. Or I pick the guy who’s Mamma died and now he’s playing for her. Or I pick my cutie pie, Notre Dame, QB- freshfaced and and ready to get his ass handed to him.

I know better. I KNOW who to pick, I’m no draft rookie. But FUCK if I don’t DO IT EVERYTIME.

I know the boys count on this. They thrive on this. However my GOOD picks usually sustain me to beat 99% of their penis-toting asses, ok so last year it was like 75% of their asses, either way. Anyway here is my team:

Brady, Tom QB NE

McAllister, Deuce RB NO

Parker, Willie RB PIT

Stallworth, Donte’ WR NE

Boldin, Anquan WR ARI

Muhammad, Muhsin WR CHI

Kaeding, Nate K SD

Steelers, DST DST PIT

Pennington, Chad QB NYJ

Quinn, Brady QB CLE

Davenport, Najeh RB PIT

Jackson, Brandon RB GB

Gonzalez, Anthony WR IND

Cooley, Chris TE WAS

49ers, DST DST SF

Sarah always seems to squash her girl when she drafts. I don’t know how she does it. She manages to NOT draft Bucs (her beloved team) even when they are having a good year and remind me how my bathroom was once Honolulu Blue. God help me for being from Detroit.

Anyway…my point here, you know just after Women’s Equality Day, is I need to find a way to turn off the girl and turn a the war-mongering, testosterone warrior woman on draft day. OR maybe I just need to care MORE about my fantasy team winning. I do. I do Queen of Spain Fantasy Football Team. I CARE. The same way I care when I hit a jumpshot over a guy’s head…is the same way I care about Fantasy Football…fuck if it doesn’t feel reeeeaaallllly good to beat a boy. Many boys. A whole league of boys (and Sarah) and their “I think I know it all” ways.

Seriously, if you would have seen this guy’s picks you would KNOW I know more about football than he does. And this one…all talk and spreadsheets (but just might be one of the better smack-talkers). OH OH OH, this guy? Defends Matt Hasselbeck and his wife, sister-in-law (either way got VERY upset when we started to pick on the Hasselbeck FAMILY)and should therefore just be disqualified *yes Elizabeth, I’m looking at you…and you best be breastfeeding this one, you hear me bitch?*. This guy only beat me last year because McNabb got hurt. I don’t want to talk about it. Still. This guy drank scotch all night and his late picks look worse than mine. I’m rumbling with this guy somewhere along the 405, he joined us this year with some swagger so we all know that means he ain’t got no game. This woman’s husband is nicknamed Bump…so he loses automatically, although he had one of the best lines of the night. I’m just too drunk now to remember it. Oh, and this idiot didn’t show, so there was a 20 minute discussion on whether or not to give him Michael Vick. And then this guy who barely said a word, so he might as well not have shown up. And then, of course, there is my dumbass husband who didn’t even draft for himself.

So with two Patriots on my team I’m doomed to root for those fucks and implement my plan to have Tom Brady’s next baby. Oh, and make this guy take me to a game. Cough. Cough.

God I’m glad its football season again.

To all the men I’ve beaten down before

There is nothing like a snarky woman in your fantasy football league to spice things up.

Try three. The girls and I are officially part of the Blog Pound League some Daddybloggers and Draft Day Suit bloggers put together. And while Sarah and Gidge really know their football, my NFL knowledge is above par, yet still lacking. So I am resorting to Guerrilla Warfare.

The boys have already started talking smack. And if there is one thing I do really well (hey, hey…out of the gutter there boys-but you’d be right on that too) it’s speak to grown men like they are helpless children. I’ll start with the usual verbal assaults, but don’t think I’m above a long monologue about my period and tampons just to make you weep and beg for mercy.

You boys know that women never play fair. So expect me to cheat and catfight my way to the pot of gold in this league. I’ll have you quitting because your WIFE won’t let you play with that bitch anymore. Is that PORN on your computer again? Did it really come from that GIRL in your fantasy league??? Oh yeah, I will stoop that low.

So I figure with the boys out of the way, my only real competition is the gals. Sarah will put too many Bucs players on her team to be a real threat. I’m hoping Gidge gets overwhelmed with the whole “has a job� thing and misses some key transactions.

That just leaves me. And my ample breasts. Which I will use and abuse in order to win money. And fame. And glory.

Oh, and Sarah…I totally blame you for my new obsession with fantasy football. You’ve created a monster.