Are Sundays for golf or football?

Ah, Sunday. God’s day of rest… unless you’ve got a tee time at 8 a.m. or your team’s kicking off at 1. That’s when the holy war begins: golf vs. football.

See, golf guys know the trick — play early. You’re strutting off 18 by noon, grass still stuck to your shoes, ready to pound wings and scream at the TV while pretending you’re not also screaming at your fantasy lineup. The best part? You can brag about your “walk in nature” while your buddies are still looking for parking at the stadium.

But then there’s the football purists. They’ll tell you, “Bro, Sunday is sacred. The grill, the beer, the couch imprint shaped exactly like my body — this is tradition!” And they’ve got a point. Nothing quite says America like pacing the living room, cursing the offensive coordinator, and promising to cancel your streaming subscription for the 12th time.

So what’s a Dad Bod to do?

Option A: The Hybrid. Tee off at sunrise, sprint through 9 holes like you’re in the Boston Marathon, and pray you make kickoff. Bonus: you’ll have a ready-made excuse for any bad shots. (“Had to rush, boys. Got a game to catch.”)

Option B: Full Football. Sleep in, load the crockpot, and treat golf like that side chick you’ll sneak out with on Tuesday.

Option C: Double Down. Play 18, rush home, grab a six-pack, and watch football until your wife gives you the “do you even live here” look. Warning: this option may cost you your marriage, but at least your fantasy team might go 2-1.

At the end of the day, Sunday isn’t about choosing. It’s about survival. It’s about finding a way to justify to your family that spending seven hours watching a ball — either rolling on grass or flying through the air — is somehow self-care.

And let’s be honest, whether you’re hacking out of a sand trap or throwing a remote across the room, you’re still sweating, swearing, and burning the same number of calories. That’s Dad Bod fitness, baby.