Big Cat is Making Me Fat: The Football 40 at Barstool is No Joke

Justin Sullivan. Getty Images.

One of the first things you hear when you step onto a college campus is the dreaded “freshman 15.” While I managed to dodge it—mostly because I was broke and running on nothing but Coke—let me tell you, the freshman 15 is no myth. I’ve seen plenty of people go up multiple sizes in just one academic year. And honestly, it’s no knock on them. It’s easy to fall into that trap.  

Being a Freshman in college is all about doing just enough work to pass your classes, boozing until everything looks like a double, and timing your McDonald’s delivery to arrive the second you stumble back to your apartment. When you live like that, those extra 15 pounds sneak up on you fast. I thought my days of mindless eating were behind me after college. But, oh boy, was I wrong. If you think the freshman 15 is bad… you’ve clearly never experienced the Football Forty at Barstool Chicago.  

Every week, I can see my stomach growing, inch by inch, like a ticking time bomb. I feel like the Grinch when they strap him to a chair and force-feed him until his belt explodes. At this office, every football stream feels like Thanksgiving. We kick things off with Raising Cane’s, then order more food halfway through, followed by Big Cat throwing candy into the mix, and if that isn’t enough, we finish with dessert. And yes, it’s as amazing as it sounds.  

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not complaining. I’m incredibly lucky to call this my job. But I need you to understand just how impossible it is to have self-control when every football stream turns into a full-blown feast. Staying on top of your health during football season in this office? Borderline impossible. Honestly, I’d bet that not a single person here has lost a pound since Week 1.  

Before the season started, I was in the best shape I’d been in four years. I hit 190 pounds—a personal victory I was really proud of. Fast forward eight weeks into football season, and I’ve ballooned back up to 205 pounds. Call me soft, call me undisciplined—I don’t care. This isn’t my fault! This is what the Football Forty does to you.  

As much as I love football season, part of me can’t help but hope it ends soon—before I turn into a full-blown fat fuck.