A football game. One of many and many that have been played.
Image: Getty

This week, Deadspin and Jezebel swap beats to celebrate America’s most dangerous and controversial pastimes: football and fashion, two sports that have far more in common than you think.

Growing up, I did not play football. I did not know anyone who played football. I did not watch football. None of my friends or relatives watched football. As a result, I know nothing about football. Over the years, I have gleaned that it has about 100 million rules that I will, at this point, never understand; takes an amount of physical strength that I cannot fathom; and is observed by millions as a religion.

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I have attempted to watch the Super Bowl for the ads, but also I hate ads. I have tried to watch with boyfriends, one of whom was a former college football player himself, but after about 10 minutes of intense focusing, I always zone out and think about all the other things I could be doing that are not watching football. I have finally accepted that I will never enjoy watching football, and that is okay. It is my truth.

But after some serious thought, I have realized that there are some things that could compel me to watch. Roger Goodell, if you want to grow your audience to bring in new, half-dedicated viewership, here are some ways you could make football more watchable for people like me:

  • Hire Savage X Fenty to design all the uniforms.
  • Get rid of ESPN. Your new sports commentators are Reina Treindl, Azusa Babazono, Ryota Yamasoto, Shono Hayama, You, and Yoshimi Tokui from Terrace House. There are no other commentators.
  • Bar anyone who has committed domestic violence or assault from the sport.
  • Lots of kissing. I don’t care who is kissing. Just more kissing, please.
  • Someone please hire Colin Kaepernick. Also, every player on every team should be Colin Kaepernick.
  • ALL of the team owners are black women.
  • More butts, and close-ups of butts.
  • Cheerleaders are in charge of football strategy and are actually the masterminds of the whole game. They do not cheer. And they wear whatever the fuck they want to wear, a la Bill Belichick.
  • There are “lightning rounds” with horribly cheesy, unanticipated, game show gimmicks thrown in at the last minute. What’s gonna happen? A herd of ornery wildebeast stampede the field. A giant bucket of slime and thousands of neon ping pong balls fall from above. Incessant fog horns ring, and out emerges Lil Wayne, riding around the field in a golden chariot.
  • Make Fiona the referee. You will not be disappointed.
  • Do not hold the games in stadiums, but in exotic, isolated locations of natural wonder. In one division, perhaps, football players are trapped on a deserted island, relying on the elements around them to play their game: a coconut turns into a football; bundled leaves serve as pads; sticks in the sand are the goal posts. Once the teams prepare, they play: Only one team will make it off the island.
  • There is nudity, gratuitous nudity, peens flapping around for no apparent reason, breaks for full-frontal shots of players, and so many butts that all you can see when you turn off the TV are round, callipygian phosphenes. In fact, a football game can’t air without some nudity: Execs will insist that it moves the game forward and it’s good for ratings, so who can argue with that?
  • Bobby, Karamo, Antoni, Tan, and Jonathan are at every game, and they do whatever the fuck they want.

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Thank you, Mr. Goodell, for your consideration.