It's NFL playoff time. That means I'll be obsessing about football, wondering if my team even has a chance or if we are going to blow it, then struggling to stay seated during the game while scaring my dogs with screams of joy and pain.

Football is infuriating and thrilling. I hope I can convince more women to catch the fever. There are plenty of other women who get into football, but I know even more who end up chattering about their nails when the game is on.

I have one friend who questions the masculinity of the game -- as if tight pants with bulging quads aren't macho. She's probably the same girl who would pick up a tight pink jersey to be cute, while real fans roll their eyes in disapproval.

A lot of them don't know a thing about the game -- and no one will begin to explain it for them. Many men prefer to be old-fashioned about their watching and tight-lipped with their knowledge.

"Let the women shop while we watch the game," I've heard.

Perhaps women who would rather charge new clothing than rush the quarterback are beyond help. Maybe they would ask their men too many annoying questions -- "Why is that guy wearing black and white stripes?" -- or worse, cheer for the wrong team.

It'd be like watching an episode of "Sex and the City" and having my husband constantly ask me about the characters.

"Why is she wearing that belt with that giant sweater?"
"Why would she date that guy?"
"Is there anything else on?"

But I wish men would keep in mind that most of us weren't born with playbooks in our heads. I had an early start as a football fan. My two older brothers included me in their impromptu practices in the back yard, using me to fill out the "I" formation and hike the ball, even if I had no idea what I was doing.

On Sundays, the family gathered in front of the TV to eat subs and yell at the Philadelphia Eagles for their heart-breaking ways while my brothers tried to memorize plays to try out in their youth football games. I remember a Christmas photo of me wearing my Eagles nightgown sitting on my brother's Eagles bike under the tree. I had no choice but to be a fan.

Despite growing up in a sea of football, I was intimidated by the game for years. I had no idea what a hook and lateral or quarterback sneak meant, let alone the difference between a noseguard and a tight end, and I was afraid to ask. I knew I just had to root for the Eagles, even though my dad would often vow to never watch again when they let him down.

(I'm actually a Ravens fan now, but so far I haven't been kicked out of the family.)

Football always just seemed rough and confusing, and clearly stressful. I didn't even bother to join my brothers in the football videogames. The game was no place for a girl, other than as a placeholder or a cheerleader.

I never really understood all the ins and outs until I risked sounding like an idiot and started asking questions. After the men on the other end realized I was serious, I picked up some real knowledge and started to enjoy watching.

Then I figured out the best way to learn -- I picked up a pigskin and started to play.

In high school we played two-hand touch on the weekends, guys and girls. It could be too rough at times -- I tore my ACL twice -- but I started to appreciate the game in a way my dad and brothers always had. Even now, I play on a social league and can't think of anything better than catching a ball and running for the end zone.

I'm proudly at the point where I can throw a mean spiral, even though my brother criticizes my Doug Flutie sidearm action.

It may be tough for non-athletic types to play football, even in a social setting, but it's worth a try. It will give you a good sense of what's going on, why the whistle is blowing or why your guy friends are upset when the yellow flag goes down.

So in the spirit of the season, remember that wearing a pink hat with a team logo doesn't make you look like a fan. But wearing a pink hat -- I actually have two amid my sea of more manly gear -- while yelling at your quarterback's mistakes or calling your coach an idiot will set you on a good start.

Laura Lewis Brown is an adventurous newlywed who has loved, lost and doesn't mind sharing. Her column appears every other Thursday.