Tag Archives: sports (watching)

2015

I’m not a resolution-maker (any resolve I have in one moment can easily be undone by counter-resolve in the next), but if I were, I’d try to commit to posting more here. Anyway, here’s where things stand.

Work: A decade at the mag come March. Regular features, health column, etc. etc. No longer allowed to throw things at Tiny Red. Chugging along.

Health: Hoping to address weight gain at doc appointment on Monday with some prescription adjustments. Knees and fingers, wrists and toes (wrists and toes) have not sustained any setbacks of late. No word on when the head will heal. Third nipple going strong. Third nostril has been taken care of. Spackle works wonders.

Apartment: Aside from mold in the shower (FOR SHAME), staying on the landlady’s good side for the most part. String of lights by the fence makes for kickass nighttime cornhole. The hill are alive with the sounds of gunfire and ghetto birds.

CJ: Eats the mattress. Has only fallen off the loft once thus far. Still takes the stairs down one at a time. Somehow found a new lizard dealer in the neighborhood. Bitch has a problem.

Sports (playing): Between being out of shape and younger/calmer than most people out there, didn’t really catch on with the 7-v-7 soccer league. All-new hockey team of strangers (due to a league draft rather than the standard put-your-own-team-together format) has more promise than I would’ve expected—thanks in part to a knuckleball goal in game 1 that helped put me in the teammates’ good graces. Very much looking forward to a women’s tournament in Ellenton next weekend. Considering headis.

Sports (watching): Aside from the occasional lapses in defense, Bolts have been fun to watch. Bucs were very much not (hoping for Mariotta instead of Winston). We’ll see if the Maddon-less Rays can hold my attention come spring.

Eating: Lettuce, but only as a vehicle for Ma’s blender Caesar salad dressing.

Drinking: Beer. Bourbon. Purell.

Social life: See above.

Love life: Tiny glass animals. Blaming the blue roses.

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That Time of Year

Last night I pulled out all of my Christmas movies…and then I watched Dead Man Walking. It wasn’t intended as a comment on the holiday season, but feel free to interpret it that way.

It’s 71 and cloudy here in sunshiny Florida. I’ve already eaten all of my Thanksgiving leftovers—turkey, gravy, stuffing, sweet potato casserole, roasted Brussels sprouts, cranberry “salad” (the Southern use of the word, i.e. jello and whipped cream) and cranberry sauce. I expected all that to last longer than 24 hours.

Yesterday I spent a blissful few hours on the beach, barefoot in a hoodie and shorts, reading a prison memoir.

Today I watch variations on a theme: people hitting each other. Which is a good complement to trying to do a Jackson Pollock puzzle.

Tomorrow is NPR and football, PJs all day. My favorite.

Feels like the roller coaster is cresting the hill.

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How I Make the Team Win

When people ask me if I’m superstitious, I answer assuredly, “Nope!”

I played NCAA Division I soccer, and a lot of competitive soccer to get there. (And no, I’m not going to get tired of bringing that up.) Throughout my career, if I didn’t have the right shirt, the right bra, stepped on the sideline or not, whatever, I was ok; I never thought about what order I put my gear on, which shoes I tied first.

And yet, as a fan? I get so idiotic following my temporary, impulsive, newly imagined superstitions. They’re not even legit, consistent game-to-game superstitions; they’re just what occurs to me during the course of a single game. I compulsively follow whatever idea suddenly pops into my had as good luck—and those impulses must be having an effect, otherwise I would’ve learned from logic and stopped trying right?

I think I’m going to call it Helpless Fan Syndrome: You can’t be on the field, so you invent ways to be proactive.

Is anyone else so…Mormon with their superstitions? Just top-of-the-head, “It came to mind, therefore it must be God’s law”? I make fun of it, and then my brain goes all, “For the Bolts to win, you have to wear the same underwear that you wore while eating that really great sandwich you had last Wednesday, and take out your left earring, ’cause it’s an away game,” and I’m like, “OH, SHIT, DUH.” […* dutifully changes underwear, removes earring.]

While it’s obvious that my techniques are still being developed (as of the Bolts/Rays results in the last 24 hours, and the Bucs…well, pretty much all the time), here are some things I did right to cause the Rays to win Wednesday: (And it’s not at all a coincidence, then, that I did none of these things today–hence the blowout.)

  1. Drank out of the same glass I used during Monday’s win. (Unwashed. Duh.)
  2. Refused to let that glass go empty.
  3. Did not wear any of my Rays gear. (One of my longer-standing superstitions deems that wearing team gear—or even using team-branded items like cozies and whatnot—is bad luck.)
  4. Nor did I wear anything blue or yellow or green.
  5. Answered only “yes yes” and “woo” to any IMs I got in support of the Rays during the final two innings.
  6. Kept my phone plugged in throughout the ninth inning, even though it was fully charged midway through.
  7. Knocked twice on my head, wooden TV tray and wooden coffee table (in a random order) with my right hand, then on my head and coffee table (random order) with my left hand every time an announcer said something jinxy.
  8. Made this list eight items long, ‘cause eight is a good number.

When in doubt and your team is down, you can always go to the time-tested and proven “rally shot.” In the best circumstances, this involves the cheapest tequila available at the bar (see: El Toro, Pepe Lopez)*. Among many success stories, this shot’s greatest achievement? The USWNT comeback win over Brazil, during which CCB, the Deelios and I, in an unparalleled moment of patriotism, took one (apiece) for the team. And then this happened:

 

 

In a pinch, you can use whatever somehow detestable shot you have on-hand that you can suffer through without ruining your experience for the rest of the game.

But lastly, a few words of warning for wielding the power of the rally shot:

  1. Never take a rally shot when your team is up or tied. (That means it’s rallying for the other team.)
  2. Be very, very careful taking a second rally shot—you never know if the first one is still working, and you may counteract it and/or die.
  3. And speaking of: Never take a rally shot after midnight. I dunno if it’s bad luck, but I’m pretty sure it’s just straight-up a bad idea.

 

*Holy god with those websites. Now I see where they get their power…

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