Four Downs to the Ten-Yard Line

[Brom, spoken]
What do you mean you don't get how it's played? I mean just cause you're a homo doesn't mean you can't watch football. I mean, you're still a dude, right?

[Ichabod, spoken]
I guess

[Brom, spoken]
I mean whoever said football is for beer-guzzling troglodytes and trailer parks? We scholars of the academe can enjoy it on a whole other level. Look
(sung)
First you got your two teams
Titans bursting the seams
Of their uniform's design
Coin toss to begin it
Each one wants to win it
Each one thinking this is mine
Based on his own charter
Coach assigns a starter
Wound up like a tense turbine
Kickoff and we're going
Cheers and whistles blowing
Four downs to the ten-yard line
(spoken)
You follow?

[Ichabod, spoken]
Um

[Brom]
Guards and wide receivers
Touchdowns whose achievers
Thank their maker most divine
Cornerback's appearance
No catch! Interference
See that perseverance shine
Every quarter's kick may
Antedate a sick play
Run by a tight end servine
Huddle at the scrimmage
Patriotic image
Four downs to the ten-yard line

As the football flies
Through the midday skies
Cue the crowd to rise with a roar
And it's no surprise
When you realize
You'll idealize evermore
Score!

There go the offensive
Linemen, their extensive
Masses black as iodine
Giants making tackles
Always make my hackles
Bristle like a porcupine
Fans who fill the bleachers
Contumacious creatures
Worship at their chosen shrine
I could spend my life here
TV, game, my wife, beer
Four downs to the ten-yard line

[Brom, spoken]
Commercial break, you following?

[Ichabod, spoken]
It's great, a lot of fun

[Katrina, spoken]
You boys doing okay? Ichabod, you need anything? Wine?

[Ichabod, spoken]
Nope. Fine. Thank you

[Katrina, spoken]
Brom, can you help me grab-

[Brom, spoken]
Not now, hon, the game's on
(sung)
Watch now see them crumble
Ref calls it a fumble
So cue the new coaches whine
Holy shit! He missed it
Kicker barely kissed it
And yet you just sit benign
You might think it's corny
But this makes me horny
I could rub one out just fine
Once more in slow motion
Jesus! Grab the lotion
Four downs to the ten-yard line

[Brom & Ichabod & Both]
Who's this guy?
What's his deal?
What's this awkwardness that I feel?
When he's near
When he's close
There's a flutter of fear that I can't diagnose
I'm intrigued
See the football flying
What's his aim?
The defense trying
I ignite when he says my name
The losers crying, the shame
Brom is straight
And the band starts playing
That's just great
The crowd is fraying
Why am I always into guys who aren't available?
The game's over change the channel to SportsCenter
And even if they were, would never go for me
Instant replay and commentary Ichabod, you're missing everything
Watch the game

[Ichabod]
Right, focus on the fine men

[Brom]
The offensive linemen

[Ichabod]
Check out number forty-nine
Makes big impression

[Brom]
Football's my obsession
You pick out your Valentine

[Ichabod]
Look, I'm a musician
When's the intermission?

[Brom]
Oh, what? You need a glass of wine?

[Ichabod, spoken]
Well

[Brom]
Ichabod, you kill me
God! This game can thrill me
Kids who win the Heisman

[Ichabod]
Like a Zigfield or a Weitzman

[Brom, spoken]
What?

[Ichabod, spoken]
Nothing

[Ichabod and Brom]
Four downs to the ten-yard line

[Katrina, spoken]
Dinner's ready!