Can You Root for BYU AND Utah?

So I got a call from a buddy Saturday night, and he's having a pretty tough time in his marriage right now. He's a Notre Dame fan, you see. Of course they've had a lot of good years together, but right now times are trying like he just never thought possible. She stays out all night, treats him like garbage, and has become hideously ugly. No two ways, it's not a good situation right now. They're married, though, and so it was still a little bit tough to hear when he asked me "Am I a terrible person if I consider changing teams?"

Of course, I had several thoughts. First of all, I was glad that he called me. There are only too many people out there who would have given him the easy pass and said something stupid like, "You have to do what's right for you!", "There's no sense in being trapped in a love-less relationship!" or "If you're not getting what you need out of the relationship, then I don't see any reason to continue it." This is America, after all, and we've grown all too accustomed to taking the easy way in lieu of the right way. Second, I told him "no." It didn't make him a terrible person for considering switching teams . . . but it would most definitely qualify him if he actually did it.

Look -- "real" relationships are complex and messy and factor in a lot of different things. I don't believe in divorce, but I'm not trying to push anybody's buttons regarding their past or whatever. If you've been through a real divorce then I'm guessing that you have plenty of pain and regret and brokenness, and I'm not trying to pile on. Really, this paragraph is completely serious and joke-free. Part of me hesitates to even use the metaphor because of the tragic nature of all that is entailed in the genuine article.

But sports wives? Here I'm not afraid to throw the book at you. There can be no one-night stand, no girl on the side, and no sleazy liaisons at out of the way motels. You're married my friend, and whether or not you knew what you were doing at the time, you have to deal with the situation you're in.

Look, I married early and have had some rough years. I won't go into extravagant detail here, but you can read all about my pain here (oddly enough it's one of my favorites). For now, let's just say that I have one massive Lion painted on my wall for every playoff win that my favorite franchise has recorded since the advent of the Super Bowl. But you know what? She still has my heart, and no number of first-round wide receiver draft picks can change that. Even if my love was to fail, I'm dead to the wiles of the seductress, promising though she may be. It's sports marriage, and there is no going back.

There have been plenty of times when I've made my team sleep on the couch. Ultimately, it's always cold and lonely. There have been even more times when she's looked incredibly hot and I've gotten all excited, only to have her get drunk and pass out in the punch bowl. Once she even had some cosmetic surgery only to have her body ultimately reject the foreign substance and end up in even worse shape.

But you know what? I'm married. That means I'm in for the long haul and doing what I have to do. If that means my buddies make fun of me, I'll take it. If it means having to sneak away for burgers and brats because "we're making an effort to eat better together," then I'll call you when she's left for work. If it means installing a fun-house mirror on the bedroom ceiling, I'll live my illusion and like it. But it does NOT mean that I'm taking a trip to the courthouse, the bar, or the house of ill-repute.

Look, I'm not saying that you can't ever root for another team. In the Super Bowl two years ago, I rooted for the Seahawks because my buddy Craig's a big fan, and I would have been happy for him. When Louisville lost to Kentucky this weekend, I felt genuinely bad for a few friends who are "good" (intelligent, emotionally vested, and non-obnoxious) U of L fans. Hey -- I have some friends with cool wives, and I think that's great. And I wish cool wives for my single buddies, too. I'm for that! But under no circumstance can my buddy's wife come before mine. I can't get too emotionally involved, I can't take a stronger interest in his than in mine, and under no circumstance can I wear an article of her clothing. It just crosses the line.

Maybe if I lived in Utah I'd be able to pick up more teams. I saw a thing on tv about that once, and there were issues but it seemed to work on a certain level. Even then, though, it seems like an awfully big commitment. Sports wives can be high-maintenance if you want to give them the kind of attention they deserve, and the complications would seem endless.

In the end, I can't blame anybody for considering a sports divorce in an emotional moment. Hey -- that's really a tribute to how much you care in a certain sense, right? But at the end of the day, you know to whom your heart belongs.

There once was a dude (actually, maybe twice, but this one in particular for our purposes today) who was a lot wiser than I am, and had a lot more wives. Like a LOT more wives. It's his wisdom and knowledge and experience, then, with which we'll end today's post:

"For the lips of an adulteress drip honey, and her speech is smoother than oil;
But in the end she is bitter as gall, sharp as a double-edged sword.
Her feet do gown to death; her steps lead straight to the grave.
She gives no thought to the way of life;
Her paths are crooked, but she knows it not.
Now then, my sons, listen to me; do not turn aside from what I say.
Keep to a path far from her, do not go near the door of her house,
Lest you give your best strength to others and your years to one who is cruel,
Lest strangers feast on your wealth and your toil enrich another man's house."
-- Solomon, Proverbs 5:3-10, NIV