We all hate obnoxious sports fans, but I can actually define the characteristics of fans I don't like: I hate fans who watch the game with their hearts instead of their eyes, fans who talk incessantly, fans who don't understand the game they're watching, and fans who love Auburn. Each of these, individually, is a trait worthy of banishment from the holy land of the SEC, but when you've got all of these combined in one person, well, then you've probably met the guy who sat and watched this year's Iron Bowl game with my son and me.

It is a rather twisted story as to how I ended up having to babysit this guy for the big game--but the bottom line is that when his girlfriend, or rather, the chick he'd just met, was threatening to drag him to the mall and away from the game he so obviously wanted to watch, I intervened: "Let him hang here and watch the game with us." Sometimes the nicest gestures are the dumbest ones. Lesson learned.

I gave his girlfriend a list of things I needed while she was out, including some Coke, Coke I intended for my son. Three minutes after her departure, however, Boy Wonder claimed the drinks for himself with "I sure hope she gets real Coke instead of Diet Coke," and with that, in what seemed like a single motion, he took off his shoes, took the blanket from my son, sprawled out on the couch, while somehow commandeering the remote control as well. And then, while my usually-not-so-delicate sensibilities were trying to recover from this assault, he launched into a seemingly ceaseless rambling about who-the-fuck knows what, but that was every once in a while sprinkled with "football," "Auburn," and "defense," so I suspect he was talking about the game I was so desperately trying to watch. I began to wonder if he even knew it was on.

My eyes had glazed over, the drool stringing from my mouth to the tops of my shoes, when he flung my son's blanket to the floor, jumped to his feet, pointed at the tv set and screamed, "And this is what Auburn does best," just as the Alabama defense stormed through Auburn's offensive line and slammed their running back to the ground for a loss.

I was confused by his enthusiasm. "So you're proud of losing a yard or two?" 

"No, no, I mean, our quarterback reads defenses and adjusts the play at the line."

"Uh huh...well, that's quite an adjustment he just made," and I went back to my catatonic state.

At some point, I got up to go to the restroom, and when I came back and reclaimed my seat, I immediately noticed that Boy Wonder had changed the channel and was watching a movie. Uh--this is Alabama. And--uh--this, specifically, is Tuscaloosa. Simply put--when the football game is on--no, no, let me make sure you get this--when The Football Game is on--you do not change the fucking channel. Not during commercials. Not during halftime. Not if the world is on fire, the Russians are attacking, and your neighbor's trailer has been swept away by a tornado. YOU DO NOT CHANGE THE FUCKING CHANNEL.

But Boy Wonder had exhausted his football prattle, having long since exhausted his knowledge of the game, and had opted for a comedy. Mind you, he laughed when it wasn't funny and was too busy talking when he was supposed to laugh, but by then, my son and I had moved to watching the game on a different tv.

As the game dwindled to a close, Boy Wonder walked through the kitchen, mentioned my decent supply of good tequila (which I subsequently hid inside the liner of the trash can), then hovered over my apple pie. "This sure looks good," he said as my son violently shook his head behind Boy Wonder.

"No," my son silently mouthed, "don't let him have any!" Dylan then signalled for a Coyle team huddle in the bedroom. He looked both ways for the opposition just as he closed the door. He whispered, "Mom, when are we going to cut into that pie?"

"Dylan, if we cut into it now, we'll have to offer that guy a piece, and I have a feeling that one piece won't be enough for him."

"Just tell him the pie is for us, that he can't have any."

"That would be rude--I can't do that!"

"Mom," my son said with a heavy sigh as his eyes rolled back to the nether regions of his skull, "this guy just took over this entire house, football game included, and YOU are worried about being rude?"

Dylan was right, but we still waited until Boy Wonder left before we cut the pie. Dylan ate two pieces then licked the plate clean of the pie crumbs, caramel sauce, and melted ice cream, yet still displayed better manners than said Auburn fan.