There is no reason in the world that a grown, educated woman should get SO DAMN UPSET over a sports team.
She should not allow her mood to be determined by the success (OR LACK THEREOF) of a baseball team late in the season.
Said grown, educated woman should not awaken multiple times during the night, having turned the baseball game off when it was tied because she couldn't bear to watch, jolting awake to wonder, "Did they win? Did they win?"
Said grown, educated woman should not lie there afraid to get up and check the final score because she knows it will render her sleepless for the rest of the night.
She should not SLAM her hand against the power button of the car's radio upon starting home after Zumba and discovering said team WHO DESPERATELY NEEDS TO WIN TO MAKE THE PLAY-OFFS is already down 3-0, oops 4-0, make that 6-0.
She should definitely not admit that the ran the risk of breaking both her hand AND the radio with such a pathetic display of temper. (They're both fine. I think.)
This grown, educated woman should not allow her blood pressure to skyrocket just because her team needs any combination of at least one win and at least one loss by the team nearest them in the standings, and her team is playing the team with the best record in baseball while the other team is playing the worst.
She should not allow herself to get so upset that she puts three "L's" in the word "allow." She should also not get so upset that she is forced to take a sleep aid.
Said baseball team should NOT be in a fight for their lives to make the play-offs when just a couple of weeks ago they had a NINE AND HALF GAME LEAD IN THE WILD CARD RACE.
It's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game, it's just a game.
In my next life I won't care about sports. It's too late for this one.
Calling my therapist,
Bragger
Showing posts with label Braves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Braves. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Sing It With Me.....Tradition...Tradition.....
I am all about tradition, especially in sports. I think there is often a fine line between superstition and tradition, but it doesn't matter to me. Teams do some of the same things again and again, and fans participate in some of those rituals.
At many college football games, fans (and players) hold up four fingers at the beginning of the fourth quarter. In gymnastics we hold up four fingers at the beginning of the fourth rotation (in dual meets). Why (and when?) we hold up four fingers in college basketball, which has two halves instead of four quarters.....well, I don't know.
UGA football teams have worn red jerseys and silver britches (they aren't pants, either, they're britches) for a long time. Never mind that they aren't really silver but gray (shhhhhh.......). They recently unveiled a special Nike uniform they will wear for the first game this year, and while I'm not sold on the red-on-red look, I absolutely LOVE the red and silver helmets. It doesn't matter much anyway, since the uniforms are only for one game. (Is it just me, or does that sound a tiny bit expensive?)
And none of this has much to do with what prompted this post.
I was folding clothes and watching the Braves vs. Cubs baseball game when Freddie Freeman, the Braves' rookie first baseman, came to bat. I didn't realize at the time that it was his first ever at-bat at Wrigley Field, which is fraught with tradition all by itself. Freddie jacked the first pitch over the ivy-covered wall for a home run. True to the Wrigley Field tradition, the fan who caught the home run ball threw it back onto the field.
Baseball players don't usually get to keep souvenir home run balls because the fans keep them. (Except for that extraordinary man who caught Derek Jeter's 3000th hit, a home run, and now is in deep do-do with the IRS for all the "thank you" gifts with which the Yankees rewarded him.)
By throwing the ball back onto the field, though, the fan enabled Freddie to have a memento that will likely mean a lot to him throughout what I hope will be a long career with the Braves. (I'm certain one of the Chicago outfielders retrieved the ball for him. If they didn't, I don't want to know about it.)
I've always wondered if I were lucky enough to A) go to a baseball game at Wrigley Field; B) sit behind that beautiful ivy-covered wall; C) catch a home run ball; and D) live to tell about it, would I be able to throw a home run ball back onto the field? (I mean, assuming I were there to cheer for the Cubs, which I probably wouldn't be, especially if they were playing the Braves.) Heck, I caught a FOUL ball hit by Andres Galarraga in Atlanta, and I carried that bad boy around for DAYS, showing it to anyone who would stand still long enough for me to tell the story.
Okay, I didn't really CATCH it. Hubby jumped up for it, his co-worker jumped for it, twenty people around us jumped up for it, and I was positively frozen in my seat. I still don't know how it wound up in my lap. But by golly it's mine. If it had been an actual home run ball, I don't think I could have brought myself to throw it back on the field. It wouldn't matter WHO hit it.
One more cool thing about this game and I promise I'll shut up. One of the Cubs hit a pop fly to the third base line, and Chipper Jones was going for it in foul territory. He had to lean way into the seats to catch the ball for the third out, and when he did, he simply turned his glove over and allowed a woman in the front row to pluck it out of his glove for a keepsake. I thought she was going to cry. Then I thought I was going to cry.
I sure hope Chipper didn't strain his wrist turning his glove over like that. I'm just sayin'.......
At many college football games, fans (and players) hold up four fingers at the beginning of the fourth quarter. In gymnastics we hold up four fingers at the beginning of the fourth rotation (in dual meets). Why (and when?) we hold up four fingers in college basketball, which has two halves instead of four quarters.....well, I don't know.
UGA football teams have worn red jerseys and silver britches (they aren't pants, either, they're britches) for a long time. Never mind that they aren't really silver but gray (shhhhhh.......). They recently unveiled a special Nike uniform they will wear for the first game this year, and while I'm not sold on the red-on-red look, I absolutely LOVE the red and silver helmets. It doesn't matter much anyway, since the uniforms are only for one game. (Is it just me, or does that sound a tiny bit expensive?)
And none of this has much to do with what prompted this post.
I was folding clothes and watching the Braves vs. Cubs baseball game when Freddie Freeman, the Braves' rookie first baseman, came to bat. I didn't realize at the time that it was his first ever at-bat at Wrigley Field, which is fraught with tradition all by itself. Freddie jacked the first pitch over the ivy-covered wall for a home run. True to the Wrigley Field tradition, the fan who caught the home run ball threw it back onto the field.
Baseball players don't usually get to keep souvenir home run balls because the fans keep them. (Except for that extraordinary man who caught Derek Jeter's 3000th hit, a home run, and now is in deep do-do with the IRS for all the "thank you" gifts with which the Yankees rewarded him.)
By throwing the ball back onto the field, though, the fan enabled Freddie to have a memento that will likely mean a lot to him throughout what I hope will be a long career with the Braves. (I'm certain one of the Chicago outfielders retrieved the ball for him. If they didn't, I don't want to know about it.)
I've always wondered if I were lucky enough to A) go to a baseball game at Wrigley Field; B) sit behind that beautiful ivy-covered wall; C) catch a home run ball; and D) live to tell about it, would I be able to throw a home run ball back onto the field? (I mean, assuming I were there to cheer for the Cubs, which I probably wouldn't be, especially if they were playing the Braves.) Heck, I caught a FOUL ball hit by Andres Galarraga in Atlanta, and I carried that bad boy around for DAYS, showing it to anyone who would stand still long enough for me to tell the story.
Okay, I didn't really CATCH it. Hubby jumped up for it, his co-worker jumped for it, twenty people around us jumped up for it, and I was positively frozen in my seat. I still don't know how it wound up in my lap. But by golly it's mine. If it had been an actual home run ball, I don't think I could have brought myself to throw it back on the field. It wouldn't matter WHO hit it.
One more cool thing about this game and I promise I'll shut up. One of the Cubs hit a pop fly to the third base line, and Chipper Jones was going for it in foul territory. He had to lean way into the seats to catch the ball for the third out, and when he did, he simply turned his glove over and allowed a woman in the front row to pluck it out of his glove for a keepsake. I thought she was going to cry. Then I thought I was going to cry.
I sure hope Chipper didn't strain his wrist turning his glove over like that. I'm just sayin'.......
Monday, June 8, 2009
Swing Batter Batter...
Sitting in a catered booth at Turner Field. Braves had a comfortable lead, but now it is tied. I would love to post a picture, but I don't have a clue how to do that from the Blackberry. Maybe tomorrow.
The first time I came to a Braves game was when I was in college. Back then, if you called the Braves' ticket office to ask what time the game started, they would ask "What time can you get here?" The players knew the FANS' names and birthdays.
I can't take the credit... or the blame ... for either of those lines.
The booth is sponsored by the Golden Moon Casino. You might have a problem if a casino two states over calls and invites you to a baseball game...
The booth is stocked with plenty of hot dogs, chips, dip, popcorn, and... other amenities. And we have a designated driver. I may be sorry I have to go to school tomorrow. I'm already sorry.
The first time I came to a Braves game was when I was in college. Back then, if you called the Braves' ticket office to ask what time the game started, they would ask "What time can you get here?" The players knew the FANS' names and birthdays.
I can't take the credit... or the blame ... for either of those lines.
The booth is sponsored by the Golden Moon Casino. You might have a problem if a casino two states over calls and invites you to a baseball game...
The booth is stocked with plenty of hot dogs, chips, dip, popcorn, and... other amenities. And we have a designated driver. I may be sorry I have to go to school tomorrow. I'm already sorry.
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