Surviving Your Relationship with a Giants Fan During the Playoffs

Photo Credit: Tom Horak-USA TODAY Sports

Hello, my name is Coggin, and my wife is a Giants fan.

It feels good to finally get that off my back. VERY good. I’m tired of the lies, tired of making excuses for her jubilant behavior this season, tired of trying to hide her affinity for doofus Daniel Jones from my friends and family.

The first step towards recovery is admitting you have a problem. The woman I love more than anything is a… ughhh… Giants fan.

She can’t help it! We all have our faults. She grew up in North Jersey! Her grandfather even played for the Giants before being drafted into WWII (true story, he even has a Wikipedia page)! She was predestined to root for Big Blue. It was in her blood. It was genetic. She never stood a chance.

But what can I do? We love each other too much, we have a child… we can’t just end the relationship for something so trivial. Right? RIGHT?! At least that’s what I say to myself when I lay awake at night and wonder if it would be insane to go to a cemetery purely to boo the grave of a war hero who played for the Giants in 1940.

I know I can’t be the only one out there struggling with this. We’re not all Eagles fans, surely some of us are married to Giants fans, Mets fans… or even Cowboys fans (if so, my advice is to just walk out of your home and never look back).

It’s time to be the bigger person and admit that your spouse or significant other has a problem.

But I’ve lived with this for a long time. I can help. I’ve come up with some strategies to help mitigate the frustration of loving someone who is so very, very wrong about the team they enjoy.

Hopefully this will help others going through the same tragedy.

Ignore Mental Warfare

I was sitting in my office pretending to work, avoiding my family, when the printer turned on out of nowhere next to me. It hummed to life and started spouting out this piece of trash.

Sickening. I heard a cackling from downstairs. She’s trying to get into my head, trying to crawl into the dark recesses of my mind and plant seeds of doubt. Touche my love… she knows that all it takes is one crack in the dam before everything comes crumbling down.

Divide and conquer. It’s mental warfare, forcing me to not feel safe in my own home. Unease is everywhere.

This is KGB shit. Real cold-war subterfuge. It’s devious, and I applaud her ingenuity.

But guess what hunny? These colors don’t run. Dasvidanya, comrade, but it’s going to take more than a few pictures of an underwhelming defensive front to get me to crack. Kick rocks back to Stalingrad and give Lenin a big smooch when you get there.

Fight Back, Damnit

These are trying times for someone in an fandom-mixed relationship. My wife and I have been together for nearly 12 years, and this is the first season of our time together when the Eagles and Giants have met in the playoffs. She’s feeling her oats (despite leaving the team for dead in the middle of the year when they started to lose) and puffing out her chest any chance she gets.

So what can we do? A mature, responsible adult would take the friendly chiding with aplomb and go about their day with a smile.

This is wrong.

You must triumph over these ne’er-do-wells by playing their own game. Do you say goodbye to your loved one each morning? Maybe instead of saying I love you when you embrace you can softly whisper “The Eagles have won nine straight games at home against the Giants” before leaving.

If they confusedly ask what you said, simply smile and say “I love you” before leaving for the day. Perfect.

Childish? Oh my yes. Effective? Absolutely. If you keep it up for a few days they may even begin to believe they’re descending into madness and undergoing an extreme amount of mental and physical duress.

Questioning their own sanity? Checkmate. That’ll learn em’ for not liking the team you enjoy.

Accept Their Flaws and Live With It

In the end, it’s important to realize that everyone has their flaws. Sure, remember that one time you decided to go to Medieval Times with your jackass friends and forgot to pick up your spouse from the airport? Or when you skipped out on their grandma’s 98th birthday party to see that Pearl Jam cover band with that obese lead singer? You know the one, Pearl Ham?

Those transgressions pale in comparison to their severely incorrect choice of sports fandom. It’s no question. You can hold this card over their head for the rest of your god given time together.

Sure, I may have forgotten your sister’s kid’s name for the last eight years and covered it up by calling him “buddy” every time I saw him, but at least I’m not a Giants fan.

We love them in spite of their flaws. And when the Eagles win Saturday night we’ll continue to love them, even if we choose to repeatedly whisper the final score softly into their ear when they’re sleeping after the game.

Because that’s what real love is, isn’t it? Annoying the person you’ve chosen to be with for the rest of your lives.

Kinkead: I have a possible solution –