Alright, let me tell you how this whole paper bag thing started for me. It wasn’t some grand plan, just… well, you watch enough bad football, and things happen.
The Breaking Point
It was another Sunday. Game day. Full of hope, like always. Got my snacks ready, settled in. And then… the same old story. Fumbles, interceptions, penalties. Just mistake after mistake. I found myself yelling at the TV, pacing around. It wasn’t even fun anymore, just pure frustration. By the third quarter, down by a ridiculous amount, I just couldn’t watch their faces, you know? The disappointment on the players, the coaches looking lost. And honestly, I was embarrassed to be so invested.
Finding the Solution
I remembered seeing it years ago – fans so fed up they just put bags over their heads. Seemed silly then, but suddenly, it made perfect sense. A statement, yeah, but also just a way to hide my own face, disconnect a bit from the misery unfolding on the screen. So, I decided right then, I was gonna do it. Needed a bag.
Went rummaging through the kitchen. Plastic bags wouldn’t work, too flimsy, too sweaty. Found a decent paper grocery bag under the sink. Good size, sturdy brown paper. Perfect. It felt strangely serious, this mission for a bag.
Getting it Ready
Now, just pulling it over my head wouldn’t do. Gotta see, right? Grabbed some scissors. Placed the bag on the counter and kinda guessed where my eyes would be. Made the first cut. Too small. Made another. Still kinda off. It wasn’t exactly precision engineering, let me tell you. Ended up with two raggedy holes, maybe a bit uneven. Good enough. Tried it on. Looked in the hall mirror. Yeah, looked about as ridiculous as I felt. Felt right.
Then I thought, it needs something more. Found a thick black marker in the junk drawer. What to write? Kept it simple. Just wrote “WHY?” in big letters on the front. Seemed to cover all the bases.
The Moment of Truth
Sat back down on the couch. The sounds of the game were still there, commentators droning on about stats that didn’t matter. Sighed. Picked up the bag, lined up the eyeholes, and pulled it down over my head. It smelled faintly of groceries. Everything went a bit dim, vision tunneled through the crooked holes. Sounds were muffled slightly. It was… strangely calming. I watched the rest of the game like that. We still lost, obviously. But wearing the bag? It took the edge off. Like I wasn’t fully there, just an anonymous, suffering fan represented by a paper bag.
Kept the bag, folded it up. It’s ready for next week. Just in case.
