Cursed
To every Astros fan out there, I sincerely apologize.
The 'Stros were up 4 to 2 in the eighth and I just wanted to see them win, to be able to whoop, holler and scream about the house like a lunatic, just like everyone else. But we didn't get to celebrate and I have to confess that it was because of me.
Despite an utter love and devotion to sports in general (I can't play for shit, but damn I'm good at the fanatic part), I do my favorite teams a favor when I pretend they don't exist. Because I am cursed. If I cheer them on, they will lose. Sometimes, I only have to know there is a game being played.
With all the hoopla about us finally making it into the World Series, and how beautifully poetic it would be for us to earn that honor today, of all days, 45 years to the day after the franchise was started, (in Chicago, who we'd coincidentally be playing in the Series), it was damned impossible to not know about the game. But I knew better than to pay attention, and when I put on the TV, I really thought it was late enough not to matter. For God's sake, we were up by 2 runs and were 1 out away from the World Series. 5 1/2 million people were on their feet, Nolan Ryan was rooting everybody on, Craig Biggio wasn't even breathing, and I turned on the damned game.
I'm sorry, Houston. I promise not to watch commercials promoting the game or sports updates during the game. I'll put my TV on BBC and watch Footballer's Wives or some such shit, just to keep my mind occupied so that I don't think about the game.
And if this turns out to be my last post ever, you know I've been abducted by some bookie where I'll be duct taped to a chair, my eyes held open with toothpicks, as I am forced to watch games and root for someone!
The 'Stros were up 4 to 2 in the eighth and I just wanted to see them win, to be able to whoop, holler and scream about the house like a lunatic, just like everyone else. But we didn't get to celebrate and I have to confess that it was because of me.
Despite an utter love and devotion to sports in general (I can't play for shit, but damn I'm good at the fanatic part), I do my favorite teams a favor when I pretend they don't exist. Because I am cursed. If I cheer them on, they will lose. Sometimes, I only have to know there is a game being played.
With all the hoopla about us finally making it into the World Series, and how beautifully poetic it would be for us to earn that honor today, of all days, 45 years to the day after the franchise was started, (in Chicago, who we'd coincidentally be playing in the Series), it was damned impossible to not know about the game. But I knew better than to pay attention, and when I put on the TV, I really thought it was late enough not to matter. For God's sake, we were up by 2 runs and were 1 out away from the World Series. 5 1/2 million people were on their feet, Nolan Ryan was rooting everybody on, Craig Biggio wasn't even breathing, and I turned on the damned game.
I'm sorry, Houston. I promise not to watch commercials promoting the game or sports updates during the game. I'll put my TV on BBC and watch Footballer's Wives or some such shit, just to keep my mind occupied so that I don't think about the game.
And if this turns out to be my last post ever, you know I've been abducted by some bookie where I'll be duct taped to a chair, my eyes held open with toothpicks, as I am forced to watch games and root for someone!
posted by TrisaTx at
9:49 PM
2 Comments:
Don't watch TV until Thursday! :)
By
SuzA1A, at 10:22 PM
dumb sports...all of my shows are off of the air right now because of stupid baseball. I could seriously care less about grown men getting paid more money than i will ever see in my life to play children's games. This country places too much value on unimportant crap like sports.
By
Bran, at 10:40 AM
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