For the Love of the SEC


If you didn’t already know, I am indeed southern. There are several things southerners take pride in. Good food, family, traditions, country music, pickup trucks etc. Of all of these things, the one thing southerners take the most pride in is the SEC (Southeastern Conference, for those who don’t know.) Every Saturday you can see the banners, shirts and other paraphernalia announcing to the rest of the world whose team is whose. Some love LSU, some are Bama fans, others like Georgia and of course the Volunteers.

If you ever meet a southerner and you actually have a preference in the SEC, it would be best to avoid that subject like the Black Plague. It’s like discussing politics at the dinner table. Why? Because that person will most likely hold you to your opinion for the rest of your miserable life, especially if it is ‘their rival.’ I have seen multiple fights break out just because of two people loving rival teams. Face it, southerners take football very seriously.

Any time college football is on, every southern man shifts his complete focus on the screen without a single notion of what is going on in the world. You could smack him in the face with a bucket of fried chicken and he wouldn’t even flinch. For some reason, unknown by females, they manage to sit, scream, cry and shout their way through four quarters and even waste more time watching the highlights of the game they just finished watching. He didn’t have the same reaction when he was watching The Notebook, I’ll tell you that much.

To be honest, I don’t believe I know a girl who actually loves watching football as much as men do. For the most part, girls pretend to like teams in order to win the favor of the southern gentleman they have feelings for. (You see, if you pretend to like the same team he does, he will hopefully notice you…maybe…not really…well, it was good in theory, I suppose.) In all reality, women mostly see football as a bunch of smelly men running around like idiots trying to catch a small, strangely shaped piece of leather. (The uniforms are pretty nice though if you catch my drift.) Do most girls know football terminology? Uh, no. All we know is that when the man we love is crying and shaking his fist at the TV, something is going horribly wrong. Better get out the Kleenex box. It’s gonna be a long night.

So that is basically what goes on every Saturday in the south. The boys of fall suit up and head to the field where thousands of screaming southerners await the kickoff. It’s a tradition I am sure that will carry on for many generations to come. And to be honest, it’s really not that bad.

Loads of Love,


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