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Sunday, May 10, 2009

The Underdog

OK, so, it's apparently mandatory for all human beings (except those from the Soviet Union) to root for the underdog. After one drink yesterday, I discovered what my little sisters knew 30 years ago; I'm either 1. not human, or 2. a Soviet.
Because I really want to see Tiger Woods come back 5 strokes and beat Alex Cjeka.
I know - Alex is the only golfer EVER from the Czech Republic, and he's got a somewhat lovable pudgy face, and 5 days ago he couldn't feel one of his arms.
But I still want to see Tiger stalk him down and hit a miraculous 25 foot put on the 18th green to put it away.

Does that make me a bad person?
I enjoyed watching Lance deliver seven body blows in a row to the entire French nation.
I cheered for the Steelers in the superbowl.
I wanted Michael Phelps to win a record number of gold medals.

Is it because chaos makes my brain sad?
Or that I want to be a tiny part of a dynasty?
Or is it residual 80s and 90s Husker football mentality? It's OK to lose to Oklahoma, but if they let Mizzu score a touchdown, I'm going to punch somebody. (sorry Bones)

Anyway, just a 1/2 glass analysis of my sports psyche....


  1. I've heard the alchohol is the truth serum, but wow I didn't know we were bearing our souls.
    Wanting Lance & Phelps to do what they did just makes you a stuck up American and I'm ok with that....I think the Steeler thing means you're crazy.

  2. Handy questions to ask yourself: Do you like potatoes? Vodka? Crushing private enterprise & free press? Wearing furs?
    If you answer yes to any/all of the above then, yes- you are human and your time in the military has encouraged the "american exceptionality" gene to an unhealthy level, which has given you an inflated sense of self and the need to wear giant fur hats, even in the summer.
    I'm sorry....please don't bomb me.