Believe it or not, I was a cheerleader in junior high. I was actually a cheerleader for peewee football and then I was a songleader for my school’s team. I’m not sure what the difference between cheerleaders and songleaders was supposed to be. In the yearbook, the cheerleaders (8th graders all), are perfectly stacked in a pyramid, in crisp uniforms, hair perfectly feathered; the songleaders (7th graders all), are awkwardly posed in street clothes, arms and hair akimbo, revealing metal-mouths.

I remember very little about either experience, except marching into a stadium with every other peewee team – football players and cheerleaders – in my thick, black, woolen uniform, on a sunny August day, lining up and waiting and waiting and waiting in the heat while the “recognized” us. As a songleader, my one memory is us excitedly jumping up to use one of the few cheers we knew – push em back, push em back, waaaaa-ay back! – only to be told, quite witheringly by one of our players that we were using a defensive cheer on an offensive drive.

Well, how were we supposed to know?

Nobody bothered telling us how the game worked, they just expected us to pick it up somehow. This was one of my big complaints as a child – people expected me to play outfield or spike the volleyball, but no one taught me how, and then everyone made fun of me because I sucked. Of course I sucked, I had no idea how to learn these things. I didn’t have any big brothers or sisters to teach me. And my parents were AWOL. It made me really not enjoy participating in or even attending sports. I attended Dolphins games with my uncle and cousins – and had no idea what was going on. I attended the Orange Bowl – twice, I think – as a debutante, totally clueless and bored.

Soon after I started dating my future husband, I stumbled across One Knee Equals Two Feet, thought the title was funny, skimmed the first few pages, liked how funny it was, and devoured it. John Madden made it so easy to understand what was going on. I started paying attention when my guy watched football – instead of reading or complaining – and asking questions. I started paying attention to the commentary – especially when John was calling games – and figured out what was going on.

I still can’t predict – as one of my Sunday football buddies can – which way the offense is going to break, based on the defensive lineup. The subtleties of the game are sometimes lost on me. And watching Payton and Eli’s commentary leaves me befuddled. But – I can follow what’s going on in the game.

That’s the great thing about American Football coverage: a play happens, then there’s a pause while the analysts tell you what happened and show you the play over and over, so you can see it for yourself. Then there’s another play. And there’s a pause while I catch up.

And, while I will never bore someone with football lore – like I have been known to do with grand tour cycling – I can hold my own on Sundays.

Thank you, John Madden.