I am a girl. I have two X chromosomes, enjoy slumber parties, and paint my nails on a pretty regular basis. I also love sports. Say Whaaaaa? Ever since I can remember, I have been obsessed with sports. I think it all started when my brother would steal the television remote and I would be forced into watching whatever Seahawks or Sonics game was on. I tried such strategies as taking back the remote whenever he left the room or sitting two feet from the TV screen to manually change the channel back to Rugrats, but when he became irritated with my shenanigans he would hit me. And I was kind of a sissy. I suppose I could have read a book or something but please, reading is for nerds.

Somewhere in the evolution of humanity, women were taught to feel apathetic about competition. The men did all the hunting while the women cooked and cleaned, but somewhere along the line, my genes must have been altered somehow. I guess being an ’010 girl, I do my fair share of baking, but I don’t cook and my room is always messy. But just because I know who won the Heisman last year (Sam Bradford), or even know what the Heisman trophy is, doesn’t make me a boy.

Throughout middle school and on into my underclassmen years I was ashamed of my sports obsession. I would lie to my friends about sneaking home to watch a World Cup game and pretend not to know what seed UW was ranked in March Madness.

One day, in the midst of the middle school dramafest of seventh grade, I decided to have a sports quiz with a couple of my busmates. They turned out to be complete n00bs in that arena, but that’s beside the point. I was teased for the next three years, called appalling things like “manly” and “a boy” because of my vast knowledge of sports. I was so offended and ashamed that I stored away my passion for sports, carefully concealing it in an effort to be “cool.”

Once junior year rolled around, though, I honestly could have cared less what people thought. I started actually going to Garfield basketball games and joined several March Madness pools. Lo and behold, it is “cool” to know what the score of the Mariners game was, or know the Seahawks’ record. Not to mention, it’s quite attractive to the opposite sex.

Approximately 98 percent of the time, I find boys to be loud, inconsiderate, ugly, and smelly. They think they know everything. And I mean everything. I have been given advice on make-up, hair accessories, and walking in heels. One cocky son-of-a-beesting even tried to tell me how to shave my legs. The few times they prove me wrong and seem genuinely nice, I usually have a cookie or something shiny in my hand.

But one thing I have noticed the male sex to be good for, besides opening jars and lifting heavy things, is their passion for sports.

I’ve heard people (girls) whine that “it’s just too hard to follow sports” or “I get so confused.” P-shah! It’s easy! Or, for the especially lazy, here are a few tips: First, surround yourself with at least one sports-knowledgeable person. Whenever they cheer, you cheer. Second, choose one particular subject to study up on. Then find a way to casually bring it up in conversation. Lastly, at least try to sound like you know what you’re talking about— confidence is key.

So girls, why not start appreciating the exciting thrill of victory, or cringing with the agony of defeat? It’s a great conversation starter, the boys love it, and the best part is, you don’t even have to be athletic! Watching sports is, by definition, a spectator sport.

Being a female and liking sports are not mutually exclusive, and it’s time that more women start understanding this. So the next time you ladies accidentally flip to a Sounders game, watch a few minutes. If nothing else, just appreciate the fact that professional male athletes are really, really, ridiculously good looking.