This is Ridiculous.....

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

How 'Bout THAT Dawg.........

It is a well-known fact that I am a sports junkie. I will rabidly follow any contest, particularly if I feel that I have a representative in the match.

I tried to watch the U.S.-England soccer match, but those damn horns made it impossible. I don't understand soccer AT ALL, except for the "SCOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!!!!!!!!" part. But I felt obligated to pull for my country. I will try to follow the U.S.-whoever match this Saturday from the family reunion. No, I will NOT simply use it as an excuse to retreat to my room. Maybe.

Wimbledon is something I have been in love with for years. I especially like that it comes on at 7:00 AM. Hubby came home the other day while I was watching a match, and he heard them say something about the two weeks of Wimbledon. He said, "This crap stays on for TWO WEEKS!!!!!"

"Yeah," I said dreamily.

I didn't get to follow yesterday's action because I was at school interviewing prospective students for next year. I didn't know about the epic match between Isner of the U.S. and Mahut of France.

It's not just that Isner is from the U.S.

He played his college tennis at UGA. If you've read this blog more than once, you are more than likely well aware of how I feel about all things UGA. Especially all sports things UGA.

I couldn't believe the match had gone to 59-59 in the fifth set and play would continue for the THIRD day. I couldn't wait for it to come on.

When I discovered they wouldn't play until 10:30 AM Eastern, I called and canceled my hair appointment. Saved that eighty bucks, by golly.

And when Isner prevailed 70-68, I got teary-eyed. I was so proud when he showed up for his press conference wearing a UGA Bulldogs t-shirt.

I hope tomorrow's match doesn't go that long. It starts at 7:00 AM, and we've got to hit the road by about 1:00 to go to the annual family reunion. More on THAT later.

I love sports in England. The Open (which used to be called the BRITISH Open, until they got all uppity about it) is in three weeks.

Heaven.

Baseball Overdose.....

There is really no such thing as baseball overdose, but it's past my bedtime and that's the best I could come up with.

We went to a minor league baseball game tonight, a first for me. I had heard several people say there isn't a bad seat in the house in this new stadium, and I have to agree with them. It was a small, intimate, fun environment.

Thank goodness for the torrential rains we had this afternoon, or I would never have been able to sit outside in the pollen clouds. But everything was fresh and cleansed by the rain, and it was very pleasant.

We didn't get to stay for the whole game -- do we EVER when Hubby is along?

So now I'm home, watching the animated version of the game we just left to see the conclusion (the home team won 8-6).

I'm also watching the end of the real Braves' game on television, where there is one out in the ninth and the end may not be so good for the home team unless something positive happens in a hurry. Our phenom batter just went down on three pitches, so I am a little less confident.

Tomorrow night I'm going to a high school baseball game between the two schools in our county. Lawanda the Warrior Princess's son plays catcher for one of the teams.

Then I'm going to come home and watch highlights of the Masters. Saturday I will ride the tandem with Katydid, watch more Masters coverage, watch highlights of the G-Day football game, and catch the gymnastics regionals online.

I need to go buy some Cracker Jacks.

FANatic.......

I really wish I could care a little less about sports competitions.

Tonight our gymnastics team lost their third meet in a row. And I'm taking it a little personally. The loss tonight was to a team to whom We. Had. Never. Lost. Before. In. 65. Meetings.

For the second week running, we had a score that began with an 8. That's E-I-G-H-T. I didn't know the judges even HAD a card with an 8 on it.

The 8.7 tonight was from a senior. Our anchor. Our rock. An All-American. National beam champion two years ago. Has scored perfect 10's on both balance beam and uneven bars. Eight point seven.

I will confess that I know NOTHING about coaching college gymnastics. Or any level gymnastics. Or anything else.

But I'm guessing this is NOT the path to another national championship.

If there is a bright side, and I'm struggling to find one, it's that all week I planned to make the 3-hour drive over to our neighboring state to the west so I could see this debacle in person.

Thank all that is holy for bad weather tonight.

Considering professional therapy,

Bragger