At 8:30pm or so I went through my progression of local sports channels… 31, 69, 17…
First I caught the Lightning game… 3 – 1… the other guys… no wait, make that 4 – 1.
Crap.
Flipping the channel I caught the Rays game… 7 – 1… the other guys on top.
I didn’t really feel like watching TV anyway.
73-57 Gators.
I’m not going to say go Gators, because they’ve already gone…
… and done it.
The only time I think about work at home is when someone asks, “So how’s work?”
Tonight was the exception. The Gators advanced to the basketball championship game, and the first thing I thought of was my buddy at work. “THE GATORS??” he asked belligerently at the start of the tournament. “They haven’t played anyone.”
That may be true, but they’ll be playing someone for the championship in a couple of days.
Damn it, I knew we should have bought real wood furniture.
If you walk up the stairs on the third level of the St. Pete Times Forum, you will find two seats right at the top, looking down the stairs from either side of the center handrail, seats 3 and 4, row S. This was where Beth watched her first live hockey game.
Her first impression was, “there are a LOT of people here dad.”
“Yeah, it’s great, nothing like Rays games, is it?”
On a related note, it was quite a bit louder. It turns out that 20,000 people can make a lot of noise, if they really want to. Throw in a horn and a solid roof to bounce sound off of; and suddenly Beth’s voice isn’t loud enough anymore.
The owner of our beleaguered little baseball team has more than his fair share of bad press. Whether or not it is deserved is for others to decide. I’m interested in the press release the team recently made available, after Vince was accused of throwing a tantrum in front of a group of fans. A team spokesman reported that the Rays had conducted their own internal investigation, and determined that Mr. Naimoli had done nothing wrong. Here’s an excerpt from that internal report,
DISCLAIMER: A real excerpt of the actual text of the report does not follow. I’ve wholly invented my own version for the expressed purpose of entertaining myself. I am, after all, my own most loyal fan.
“Mr. Naimoli is a kind, loving, easygoing, and charitable man. The very idea that he would yell at a fan is unfathomable. Our own, hand picked, witnesses to the alleged “incident” concur that the gentleman that signs our paychecks is guilty of no wrong doing. We understand that misunderstandings will occasionally happen, and this organization is willing to forgive and forget. We therefore hope that the confused fans in question will continue to purchase full price tickets to our home games this season.”
If ESPN sources can be believed, the Urban era at the University of Florida has begun. Where were you when you first heard the news?
I was sitting in court. I got a voice mail message from one of my coworkers on my cell phone while I was sitting in a hearing. Thinking it was an important call, I stepped outside to retrieve the message.
As it turned out, it was an important call.
Now the inevitable questions begin. What kind of a name is “Urban” anyway? Can anyone without a folksy nickname lead the Gators to SEC glory? When was the last time the phrases “runs the option,” and “emerging offensive genius,” appeared in the same paragraph?
The other day I was talking with a coworker about how I always manage to get on the wrong end of a rivalry, or in other words, the only team that saw it as a rivalry. Dunedin High School versus Clearwater (basketball and football), UF versus FSU (the last fifteen years or so in football), Red Sox versus Yankees, Rays versus, well, I guess we don’t really have a rival there, but you see the pattern.
But you know what? Being raised in the Boston area and the Tampa Bay area has really worked out the last several years. Think about the Patriots (twice), the Bucs, the Lightning, and now the Red Sox. Three years or so, and five championships? Not a bad run, is it?
The Red Sox? Sure, they’ve got a big payroll. But hey, they’ve been trying to buy a championship for years (80 plus?) – they did it this year.
I’ll let others, more capable than me, talk about the significance. I’m just going to sit in front of the TV for a while and nurse my voice back to health.
After the game, the Sox manager was asked how he wanted this team to be remembered.
“As winners.”
Only once has a televised sporting event brought me to tears. It was 1986. To this day, I cringe when I hear the name “Mookie,” regardless of the context. Now for the third time in my life, and the first since ’86, the Red Sox will play in the World Series.
Looks like I picked the wrong week to get an ulcer.
It is ten a.m. and I have just woken from seven hours of uninterrupted sleep. I went from deep sleep to fully awake in the blink of an eye (two of them actually). Why? Because I must live through another game seven tonight. There are ten hours until the first pitch and already I’m worried. This is what it means to be a Red Sox fan, even if baseball isn’t my favorite spectator sport. It would be just like the Red Sox to do something spectacular like being the first MLB team to come back from 3-0, then lose in game seven.
Yes, hope can be a cruel mistress – particularly in Beantown.
Now with my nerves already on edge, Cheryl has offered to get me a cup of java from Starbucks on her way home. Foolishly, I said yes. I’m sure THAT’S just what my stomach needs.
There is evil in this world, and it wants to be loved. That’s why it is so frightening. It’s seducing you with winning ways and good looks. It wants you to believe that everything can be had, for the right price. Using its foothold in our nation’s economic capital, it has spread throughout American life through the media. Movies, Broadway productions, made for television specials – all have been used to pry loose your love.
And it continues to win.
Yes, friends, there most certainly is evil in this world – and it wears pinstripes.
Don’t let yourself be seduced. Resist the temptation to root for the frontrunner. For the sake of the freedom loving sports fans throughout our great nation, let us band together in our disdain for the damn Yankees. Let our voices raise as one to this baseball menace. Let it be known that they can win, but they can no longer have our admiration.
And if the Sox are denied once again this year, please – please let it be someone other than THEM.