Swifties have crashed the NFL party, and NFL fan-bros are not happy.
I should say most NFL fan-bros, because I am an NFL fan-bro and I welcome Taylor Swift and her fans (which includes my 2 daughters) with open arms, mostly because football is a game and I am mature enough to maintain some sort of perspective on what is and what isn’t life-alteringly important. Also, as a Steelers fan, I need a distraction. Badly.
And honestly, I’d prefer repeated camera cutaways to Swift and her pals over yet another view of a self-inflated coach on the sidelines gibbering into his headset while covering his mouth with his playsheet, as if they were Joe Pesci in “Casino” and “the feds brought in lip readers….”
If you were true football fans you’d be much more concerned with the state of the Chicago Bears.
It was kind of nice to share the couch Monday night with my eldest daughter (who simply called the contest “the Taylor game”) and answer questions such as “why does that guy keep throwing the ball to the other team?”