6 minutes ago
So here’s the thing. We don’t play, we can’t lose. But the other thing is that I didn’t think—(nay, I KNEW)—we weren’t going to lose. No way the Yankees were going to lose tonight. I was pretty confident about seeing a game on Thursday. But all of this is easy to say because it was a rain out.
Are you f’n kidding me? A rain out? I was all in position, too! I had my secret weapon on hand! You never really know who the good ones are until there’s a playoff situation and people are confronted with the playoff version of your baseline self. The Strangeman family? They’re the good ones. NO ONE, not my sister/parents/other friends, NO ONE knows how to handle CYC during the postseason like Strange.
So, cheers, Strange. For coming out and for ensuring I had a good view of the tv and for being a good one.
So, yeah, it was kind of like the debate last night in the sense my dad waits for it like it’s the freaking New Year’s Eve ball about to drop. And when it didn’t start on schedule, he lost it, a la Mussina style when a game doesn’t start on time. But unlike Mussina, my dad didn’t do crossword puzzles, so much as he paced and drop f-bombs.
Maybe that’s where I get it from. The pacing and cursing thing.
My interest in politics lingers around the level of my interest in the WNBA, slam poetry, rain forests, and gas prices. And yet, last night I probably watched more of the debate than I did the game. My poor parents were subjected to the CYC musical chairs of superstitions.
Yankee strikes out ? “Ok, Mom, you wear the adjustable hat, dad wears the gray hat, and I’ll wear my hat backwards, let’s see if that works.”
My dad drew the line when I started to involve Mo in this lunacy, as pet cemetery owners are WONT to do. (I swear I could be dangling from a cliff by a Brine Lacrosses keychain lanyard thing, and my dad would still be like, “Did you feed the cat today? DID YOU?”)
So last night:. “ Ok, Mo. Scram. Off my lap. Go sit in the other room facing Northeast.”
“Kristen. Enough. “
That’s how I knew it wouldn’t be fair to subject them to my inanity tonight. They dodged a bullet, maybe 2 bullets since tomorrow’s schedule was apparently the fruit of Beezlebyb himself. Yeah, nbd. Game 4 at 4:00 on a Thursday. Good move, TBS. Which will heretoforth be identified as “Tortured By Scheduling.”
Yeah, you heard me. TBS. Pshh.
So, in the absence of a game, I’m free to, well, do whatever it is people who don’t like sports do. How do non-fans function in real life? Seriously. What do they talk about?
So today at 4, the Yankees will try to get the game in. This sucks for a lot of reasons, not least of which is the fact that I’ve made a point to avoid my coworkers ever seeing in game mode. It looks like it’s going to be unavoidable today. Hide the staplers.