Last article, we met Sally who described Roosevelt, her husband’s history of sports viewing. Once a family and friendship source, he now watched the Buffalo Bills football game alone. His tirade towards their losing ways left friends and family, including his two sons and Sally, withdrawing.

She came for her first appointment, expressed some reluctance to speak, and then found her voice. Sally visited or went shopping during the game.

Roosevelt, she stated, didn’t voice any reference to watching alone. She returned to make dinner. Depending on the games outcome, Roosevelt might reject her dinner.

The home was tense including bedtime.

Additionally, Roosevelt listened disheartedly to sports radio talk shows. His inflammatory speech precluded, Sally believes, the radio station from accepting his call-in. Apparently, they screened their calls.

Thank you for coming here again, Sally. I gave thought to your story and household problem. You might want to know that other households share your problem. You are, however, feeling alone as do many in that set of circumstances. The measure of intensity you described has been concerning for you. Before you left, I asked you if Roosevelt’s tirades exceed a level of danger for you. You left not answering. May I invite you to answer now?

“I don’t believe Roosevelt would ever harm me. However, he has thrown snacks and upended his tray table.” Were you watching the game with him? “Actually, yes. I got up and cleaned up the mess. That became my last time watching with him. He never seemed to notice my absence. I put dinner in the crockpot and went out for a walk. The game was over when I returned. He ate dinner later with me in silence. I knew better not to inquire about the game. I quickly figured who didn’t win. We went to bed and he didn’t even cuddle. That almost bothered me more than his anger outburst. He got up and readied for work the next day. He grumbled at the sports talk radio out in the kitchen. He said goodbye, he’d see me later.”

Sally, what was your day like? “I went to work. I got teary thinking about the episode. My good friend Rachel took me aside and asked if I was all right. I couldn’t lie to her. We go back years. She and her husband Geoff don’t like football. They go on hikes or drives on Sundays. She said I needed to confront Roosevelt. We’ve gone out as couples for dinner. She’s met Roosevelt and actually likes him. Course he doesn’t talk Buffalo Bills with them.” Did you happen to tell Roosevelt about your counseling appointment, Sally?

“No, I did not. He came home kind of quiet but not angry. We ate dinner and he even cuddled me that night. It was Tuesday and the game was soon forgotten, maybe, I don’t know.”

Sally, if you gently told Roosevelt that you’ve entered counseling to find your voice, how do you suppose he’d react?

“I don’t want to venture a guess. He might think I’m crazy for doing it. Maybe not. I was thinking about something else. I was thinking how much fun we used to have. The kids, our friends, we watched the games once upon a time without tension.” So, Sally, what do you suppose changed?

“I think I know. Our friends are New England Patriot football fans. When the two teams met twice a season, there was at first light banter. They’d cheer their teams’ success and Roosevelt took the jabs well in the beginning. Then, it began to weigh on him. We’d drive home and he’d let loose a torrent of displeasure. It got worse when these same friends relocated to the New England region on a job transfer. They expressed some sadness for leaving friends such as us. Then they punctuated the move with a dig on our Buffalo Bills team. They might see a game in person to root against the Bills or at least shout their approval towards their team’s success.

Roosevelt was hurt, and then berated them once we got home. He took their clean wholesome jab too personally. I told him so. His attitude turned sour. They moved and we lost contact with them.” Are you affected by what you just described, Sally?

“No … well, yes. They were good friends. Our kids played together. We even vacationed once with them. We had lots of good times. Do miss them. I don’t exactly know what happened. Guess they were busy in their new home, and jobs.” Do you wonder if Roosevelt misses them, Sally?

“Wow, I never thought about it. He rarely spoke of them. We had a teary send-off when they drove away. We spoke a few times after. They’d call after Bills losses to the Patriots. After that…well, Roosevelt would get angry and upset. Now that I think about it, maybe he missed them. Maybe their innocent jabs weren’t really about football. Maybe this is what I can go and talk with my husband about. Maybe we’ll come in together.

Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.