Homage to SweaterWeek: Day 5 - Sundays Are For Football

Sundays Are For Football

By, Matthew Amsterdam

September 18, I am watching football, as I do every Sunday this time of year. 

September 19 is my birthday.

September 20 is the last time I heard from Rob. It was a joke about how drunk I had gotten at my birthday. He wasn't there, as he had moved to Los Angeles. But a girl I had dated for about 9 hours beforehand showed up at the party, introduced herself to everyone as "the girl", made out with me, and tried to force me to drink water. As she kissed me, I looked at Hannah with full eye contact and gave her a thumbs down, which earned this girl the nickname "Thumbs Down Rosie." The next day, she sent me a long message apologizing-but-not-really-apologizing for her behavior, saying she was concerned that I was so drunk I would need a CT scan. Rob replied to our group thread "It's not a party unless there's a CT scan." It was a weird birthday.

Monday I will force a smile as everyone wishes me happy birthday. The rest of the week, we will see. But Sunday is for football.

Which leads us to my sweater, Amani. A couple years ago, my group of camp friends who meet every Sunday to watch the games together started getting each other Ugly Christmas Sweaters with the colors and logos of our NFL teams. There are cardigans, and vests, and pullovers. Amani came first. Red, white and blue, with the lowercase "ny" symbol of the New York Football Giants interspersed among Christmas trees and snowflakes, it is the sort of sweater designed to be ugly. It has four quadrants, which clash with one another gloriously. 100% Acrylic, it feels far cheaper than the Officially Licensed price-tag that came along with it, and it can never be worn anywhere but themed parties and football games. But our group of Adirondackees wears them on Sundays in the winter, no two teams the same, but unified in our love of football, of sweaters, of one another. It's a group that has not been complete for a year now, and never will be again, though Rob's aversion to both football and bars meant that he was never officially inducted into the Ugly Football Christmas Sweater club. However, I'm sure he would not have said no to something so gloriously tacky.

It's going to be 81 degrees on Sunday, but I'm going to wear Amani anyway, because Sundays are for football, and this week is for Rob.

That night, I'll look at my texts. The joke about the CT scan was sent in a group chat. The last messages I exchanged with Rob were the night of my birthday. He left me a voicemail singing Happy Birthday really slowly with a deep voice. When my hungover self finally heard it, I texted him "I love you so much". He replied "<3". It was a great success for everyone involved.