As romance authors, we do a lot of research to better understand the male mind. We read papers and books. We talk to dudes and ask uncomfortable questions. We flip through guy magazines – although you couldn’t pay me enough money to ever read a Maxim again. I weep for twenty-something women. Weep.
However, as the mother of two boys I’m getting a whole new perspective on the male mind. A year ago Flynn Kid No. 2 was all about Ninjagos and Legos. Then somehow, somewhere a switch was flipped. And he turned into this guy.
OK, not exactly that guy, but that kind of sports fanatic. This was my reaction to this development.
I mean really. The change happened overnight. All the sudden he was all about sports. He went from Ninjagos to Sports Center and from Star Wars to Rudy. When his teams are doing great it’s all
Disturbing? Yes. But it’s so much better than when they lose.
It’s never good to see your eight year old cry over a game, but there’s part of me that can’t help but react like this
because come on … it’s a game. Not that I say that. No. I know way better than that. Plus there are the unintended amusements of raising a budding sports fanatic. There’s the bright orange cowboy hats he wears for Syracuse games. Then he has the New Jersey Devils Mr. Potato Head that has to sit by the TV during games. And the Notre Dame mini helmet, the New York Giants helmet and the New York Red Bulls scarf that are all deployed when necessary. Pretty soon, Flynn Kid No. 2, the fab Mr. Flynn and Flynn Kid No. 3 will be doing weird things like this.
Give it time. It will happen.
I may not totally understand the male mind, but this I know: beware dragons and foul balls be there. So I just giggle and say
I love sports. Football especially, but no matter how big of a Green Bay fan I am you will never catch me wearing a cheese head. LOL! Good on you, Avery… I fear you have some painful sports filled years ahead. 😉
I’ve got two boys, too. They went from Lego to bikes then went separate ways; one to working on trucks (he’s 14) and the other to raising and milking goats (he’s 10). The second little guy is also the gardener, bragging he can grow the biggest sunflowers in the neighbourhood. They don’t have favourite sports teams, and when we watch others emotionally react to a win or lose, I emphasis it’s only a game. A game adults get paid millions of dollars to play. It’s like a fantasy world for them. Imagine getting paid to play your favourite game? Wow!
When I write male characters in my novels, I use the examples around me. I have a brother who is rock tough, but stayed up all night to keep his kids’ goldfish alive. I try to figure this out, but…well, just go with it. With seven brothers I have lots of first-hand examples of male characters. They’re all so different, so unpredictable, and not all of them watch sports.
Holy cow, this is hilarious. I think Flynn Kid #2 should make himself a Free Agent fan and let the teams come knockin’. Who wouldn’t want all that awesomeness in their corner? Love it!
Awesome post, Avery! We’re not a sports family , but give the little boy time. He may convert us all yet. 🙂
Avery,
Your clips cracked me up. I actually felt so bad for that little kid. It looks like someone broke his heart in twenty-million pieces. 🙂 Of course, I’ve seen my son in the same emotional display, but he just tries to hide it. It’s a sight to see.
The male mind is a strange, strange beast. I don’t mind watching some sports, but the only games I really like are Steelers for football, and Penguins or Capitals for hockey. When the Penguins play the Capitals, I’m a mess. Can’t really watch it because I look like a whack-job. I cheer for both.
I have four brothers and eight nephews. My daughters love the Blackhawks for their cuteness and and hockey winning ways! Done the sports fanatic thing.
We’re not a sports family, and it’s ON PURPOSE. Honest, I raised my children to love baseball and ignore football. Now my daughter runs her own FF league and Skitch does his thing as needed. Still… it’s all those childhood years spent skulking under the bleachers. But that’s another story!