Hurray! I'm For The Other Team

Last night MDH called me into the den to watch a very amusing highlight of the Patriots game against the Washington Redskins. He was all worked up because it seems the Redskins were stupidly foiled by Mike Vrabel. I learned that Mr. Vrabel is not often brought in to participate in the games except for a certain play and that the Redskins were too stupid to recognize that historically without exception, whenever Mr. Vrabel is brought in for that particular play a touchdown is scored by the Patriots. This is exactly what occurred in the highlight that MDH played for me.

He had to explain all these things to me before I was able to comprehend. He added enthusiastically, "It's the equivalent of giving the ball to the Fridge on the one yard line!! You have to know exactly what is going to happen!", chuckling and shaking his head with bemused disbelief. He may as well said, "It's like putting the soup on your head with a ball point!!."

Sports talk means nothing to me.

I think he needs more man friends.

The poor man has had a sports boner all week because the Red Sox are in the World Series and it was super chubby yesterday because not only did we have the World Series going on but also a Patriots football game. We drove like speed was going out of style to get back to Michigan in order to be home in time to start recording sports.

My poor darling is stuck with me as his sidekick and I have never given two shits about sports of any kind. The fact that he hunted me down to have me share in the excitement of a football situation has me slightly worried that I may have led him on Saturday night when I watched the baseball game with him at Amy and Ted's house.

Maybe he was enjoying the game too much to notice that most of my comments were in the neighborhood of about how ugly the Rockies uniforms are (seriously they look like barbershop smocks) and how the one batter guy has a moustache that looks like a 1970's porn star bush. The main thing I came away with from watching the game was fabric marks carved into my face from the sofa cushion and a case of the giggles from the name Coco Crisp.

Here are some other observations:

• Manny Ramiriez seems quite full of himself. He performed some kind of grandstanding slide into home plate and then declared himself safe. I'm pretty sure that's not his job. He also has some kind of whacked out do rag that I swear to god I could smell from here.
  
  
• Until a few minutes ago I thought his name was Manny Rodriguez.
  


• The Rockies uniforms are bad as I have mentioned, and when Ted explained to me that their team colors were purplish blue and black, my response was, "You mean like a bruise?"
  


• The Rockies have no brown fans. Where are the brown people in Colorado? I know they have some but they didn't seem to be at the baseball game Saturday night. It was a sea of pasty white faces in that stadium, except for the one weirdo who was clearly confused and went to the WORLD SERIES WEARING A HALLOWEEN COSTUME. Did you see him? That guy dressed as the Green Giant? What a tool.
  


• The Red Sox fans always look either bored or angry. I know that they have been through a tough time for the past hundred years or whatever, but let's try to lighten up a bit. MDH is guilty of this too. Sometimes he won't even watch the games for fear his enthusiasm will jinx the team.
  
  
• Whoever is in charge of these events should probably have auditioned the musical acts who sing the national anthem. At least get these poor tone deaf yokels some kind of hearing device so that they can be sort of on key.
  
  
• Until about 3 weeks ago I thought the Colorado Rockies were just mountains.
  


• There is something about the nature of grand slams, touch down passes, corner kicks or otherwise amazing sports history making events that makes me urgently have to pee, get a drink or otherwise walk in front of the TV. I can't seem to stop myself and may change my name to Hey Lady Down Front.
  


• Joe Paterno should put a comb in his back pocket and run it through his hair sometimes. I realize that he is a football coach and this post has primarily been about baseball. I'm not quite that stupid. It's just that the boys were also watching the OSU/ Penn State game earlier in the evening and Mr. Paternos hair looked a fright. I figured I'd mention it while I was at it.
  
  
• Oh god the spitting. The spitting. If you are in the habit of spitting that frequently do you sometimes forget yourself and spit indoors too? I have never seen a female athlete spit so I'm not entirely sure it's necessary.

PS - here is the update on the job sitch - NA DA. MDH's interview in Cincinnati went well and he looked like a million bucks, but he was convinced he is too fat to work for this company and joked that the rejection letter probably beat us home yesterday. I am very gullable and believed him.

I've been out of town all weekend and am hoping to hear something today or tomorrow about my own career development. I'll keep you posted.

PPS - In your face Rockies.