It’s here, ladies — that time of year when football, hockey, and baseball overlap, and suddenly you have to pay even more attention to the most boring one, baseball. Their Superbowl is happening this week, so once everyone’s stopped paying attention to your cute team shirt, hunker down with some seven-layer dip and try escaping into some of these fantasies:
Pretend the game is a dystopian battle for survival in the not-too-distant future. Channel your inner Katniss by imagining that all the players are children in Panem’s favorite bloodsport. Who’s the next tribute to be called to the field—that fat guy scratching his balls, the fat guy with the rope necklace, or the fat guy who keeps spitting?
Picture yourself as a sassy lady baseball player, like in “A League of Their Own.” It’s wartime, and you and a bunch of other dames have to save baseball in your cute little dresses! Hum that Madonna song to yourself as you imagine sliding down into the splits to catch a fly ball.
Imagine life as though you’d never existed. It’s the bottom of the fifth in Game 1 and you’re out of wine. Don’t let thoughts of self-harm overtake you; think about It’s A Wonderful Life and everything you’ve learned from it. Be your own guardian angel and ask yourself: If you’d never been born, who would have fished your brother out of that frozen lake? Who would have saved that girl from drinking the jungle juice at that frat party? Who would have told Cate she can’t pull off ankle booties?
Do Pinterest, but in your mind. Is your phone out of battery? You don’t need technology to keep track of cool recipes and sweet design tips. Take a look around your boyfriend’s boss’s condo and make some “mental pins.” Like that gallery wall of framed Deco postcards? Look at it real hard and try to remember it for later. A few hours of this should distract you from watching millionaires all wearing the same hat stand around for three hours.
Think about how you would run things if you were in charge. What would you do if you owned a baseball team? For one, you would pick better concessions at the stadiums (would it kill them to have fresh salads?). Team names would be next—people would be much more excited to see the New York Cronuts than the Mets, right? Then there are those boring rules. Eliminating the foul line would certainly make the games go faster. Maybe everyone on the field gets bats, too? One thing’s for sure: everybody has to drop 20 pounds.
Picture the hot players fucking you in the locker room. If those other ideas fail to get your head out of the game, there’s always the tried-and-true fallback: sexual fantasy! Picture that Louisville slugger approaching your “mound” for a “home run.” You’ll be bouncing on the edge of your seat along with all the other fans in no time.
These tips make it a snap for you to not kill yourself after the fourth inning. For it’s one, two, three strikes you’re out of Bud Light Lime, and this shit’s going to Game 7. Good luck out there!
