#GirlAnalyst
Why I Dedicated My Weekends to Staring At Men and What It Taught Me
I spent the 2015–2016 football season as an analyst. A “Player Position Analyst” to be specific. A female football analyst. Just a girl and a spreadsheet and a football team (eh, teams.) Or, at least that’s what I thought it would be like.
When I first got hired, I was ecstatic. I knew it would mean a huge learning curve and a lot of work, but I loved football and already knew the difference between a running back and a linebacker, so, game on. But, let’s be honest, shall we? An avid fan does not an analyst make. Mostly, I didn’t want to embarrass myself. I wanted to grow, to be challenged, to learn. I wanted to be more.
I stared for hours at manuals, spreadsheets, diagrams, and actual games. I studied and practiced and tried and failed and studied some more. This was when I started to realize that the glamorous, idealized picture I had in my mind was way off. Turns out, it wouldn’t just be me, curled up in my comfy weekend pants, cradling a warm drink, and watching my Bengals win game after game on the road to the Super Bowl. (Clearly that fantasy didn’t pan out in several ways…) Sure, the comfy weekend pants were a staple in this grueling work, but more in the “it doesn’t matter how I look because it’s 4am” way. Yes. That is correct. I saw 4am. More. Than. Once. Now we are getting real. What was it really like? What did I really learn?
Starting out, I had imagined that somehow I would magically figure this thing out so that instead of the 20+ hours it took me to do my first game, I would be able to crank out a game in a cool 5 hours. (It should be noted that there are some individuals out there that have mastered this feat. They are my heroes. I glared with the jealousy of a thousand suns every time I saw they had turned in all their work and I was ever-so-swiftly making my way through the first quarter of the game.) Yup. By the time we got to pre-season NFL games, my goal was to do a game in 13 hours. Once college season started, I felt truly ambitious and made my goal 10 hours. 10 hours. That doesn’t sound that long, but, trust me, it is.
It was my job to identify every player on every play of the entire game. Simple enough. I mean, there are only 22 people on the field at a time. All moving in different directions at the same time. One becomes quite familiar with both the “pause” and the “rewind” buttons.
I had conversations about and felt frustrations over things I could never have imagined. I cried the first time I did a Cleveland Browns game. I mean it. I literally cried. And you want to know the truth? It wasn’t because of how poorly the Browns played — it was because of their uniforms. What kind of person cries over uniforms?? There I was, 5:30am on a Monday morning, trying with all my might to meet the 6am deadline. I had been watching this game since 4:00pm Sunday and try as I might, the browns and oranges of the Browns’ uniforms all blended together and I couldn’t tell players apart for the life of me. The Tampa Bay Buccaneers’ uniforms are what fills an analyst’s nightmares. Well, those and the glow-in-the-dark Oregon ones.
Slowly I started to pick up tips from the pros. I began to notice how certain players have signature moves, stances, or shoes making them infinitely easier to identify. I explained with sheer glee to my startled and confused husband one night how one linebacker consistently wiggles his butt as he sets himself waiting for the snap. I have never in my life been so grateful for a butt or its wiggle. I started to realize that I was developing a mental list of favorite players — not based on skill or talent — but on their creativity in uniform deviations. Yes, one can be ecstatic over a player’s choice of arm band or leg brace — as long as he doesn’t convince all his teammates to try and be “twinsies” that day. (And don’t try and convince me that doesn’t happen. I will go to my grave believing that there are conversations in the locker room about matching. I don’t care what you say. I will believe it forever.) It’s weird to feel as if you know a player somewhat intimately without ever having met him. To recognize him instantly (without seeing numbers or names), accurately anticipate his actions and movements, celebrate his achievements, and appreciate his talent, all while not knowing a thing about him personally, is a strange relationship.
I developed a deep love for defenses. I found that a special place in my heart exists for special teams. I started dreaming in formations. I began craving ultra feminine things to balance the exposure to all things testosterone for hours at a time. I looked for ways to bring up the words “blitz” and “sack” and “jet sweep” in everyday conversation.
As the season progressed, I discovered that the more I learned, the more I had yet to learn. After one season, I can officially say I know very little, but I have learned a lot. I worked with some amazing, talented, generous people. They taught me with never-ending patience. I was welcomed into a world that was new and strange and I constantly felt honored to be there. I’m certainly not the first female football analyst and I don’t claim to have paved any roads or anything like that. I do know that I accomplished something I wasn’t sure I would be able to. That I wandered into a place that opened my eyes to new experiences, perspectives, challenges, and rewards.
Ultimately, I began to understand that you can love the game even more than you can love a team. That I can do more than I thought I could. And that I really love football.