First I have to start this post by thanking my wonderful and gorgeous friend for giving away his Caps tickets so that I and BF could see the Caps kill the Islanders last night in some PHENOMENAL seats. It was a game that made it hard for me to sleep ... and I also almost lost my voice which is just... I know... damn near impossible.
I want to tell you also, that I am completely aware of how obnoxious I am at sporting events. I once cheered so hard at a Bullets home game for Orlando, that Penny winked at me (swear to God). I then proceeded to get popcorn thrown at me... and other forms of garbage but I didn't stop until a woman literally pulled my hair and even then....
Then there was the time I made a twelve year old boy cry. And I have to tell you... that kid had it coming... I warned him that he shouldn't start shit talking with a professional shit talker (and.... don't look so shocked okay? He started it....) but he didn't listen...he went for it...and then I just had to put the kibosh on the whole thing. I mean.. don't tell me Karl Malone is the mailman when at the time..he wasn't delivering shit... (don't get all pissy... I apologized,...) And that wasn't even a recent event. I was probably 19 at the time...
But this all hearkens back to when DC didn't have a baseball team, and I was an O's fan and my dad used to take me to Camden Yards to watch Cal. I loved Cal Ripken. He was the Iron Man and my biggest grade school hero. He could do no wrong...and it was watching him play where I learned the art of shit talking. I was in second grade I think.....We were up in the nosebleeds, but not all the way at the top, and it was raining and sleeting and shitty out, and I was so excited because I loved the O's and barely even noticed the weather (Dad on the other hand was not happy about it... but I wouldn't let him leave because I wasn't going to miss the game...). They were playing the Blue Jays... and right in front of us were a bunch of Toronto fans, and right behind us...were a bunch of drunk, loud and dedicated shit talking O's fans.
Now at some point, if you take your kid to a game,...you're gonna expose that kid to a whole lotta shit talking. And it's gonna leave an impression. And the impression I got, was that I would never be one of those Blue Jay fans... for one thing... they lost that game,...and the entire time, these guys behind us are just laying into the Toronto fans who are just sitting there taking it... and I thought... so that's what a real fan sounds like... and the fact that we won that game solidified my complete and utter admiration for that type of dedication. I mean, do you know what it takes to scream that loud for 9 innings straight? Do you know what it takes to do that in the sleet and rain? And make Canadians rethink their citizenship? (Okay yes... 10 beers and a couple of hotdogs but it also takes 100% loyalty and 100% heart). I have both to a fault.
BF will tell you I am like the trophy asshole at the game. He really hates going to games with me because I embarrass him. Parents... leave your innocents at home. If you see me, I will be loud. I will be brutal. I will be unforgiving. And if you're on my team's side... you may just get a kick of out it. Last night was a prime example, although I will tell you that it's not a good idea for me to start the game hungry or thirsty and I was both. At one point I almost reached over and grabbed this woman's bbq burger... plus she was just annoying...she kept rolling her eyes every time I opened my mouth. Now the ladies to the left of me... they liked me.... and for that, I liked them.
At one point in the first period, an Islander took a terrible shot (and missed) on a wide open goal...so I yelled "OH MY GOD YOU SUCK!" And these two women look over at me and so I turned to look at them and they burst out laughing and said, "well hell...you were just saying what the hell I was thinkin'... so good for you." The guy to my right, however... was so obnoxious, he made me look like a cheerleader and he wouldn't shut up about his roller hockey glory days which just about sent me over the edge (and that you really do not want to see....trust me). So I'm sitting there, and I'm looking around, and trying not to steal this woman's burger and punch this dude in the face ... and then BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ end of first period I shot up like a rocket and went on a quest to find food. Of course this turned out to be a nightmare. I walked half way around the arena trying to find a burger that wasn't some kosher vegan bullsh*t and ended up coming back with a 9 dollar, half filled basket of what they were calling "chicken fingers and fries" but looked more like chicken knuckles and potato scraps...
In the end, however, we won, and isn't that what it's all about? I mean...isn't winning the MOST important thing? When we were leaving, my voice was shot to shit but then I smelled someone smoking my cigarettes and I felt... really glad that I wasn't... because I was in the bathroom and that's just wrong...and even more glad that my team just won. So happy that I screamed "SUCKS TO BE A LOSER!" And well hell...it's true... and as BF rolled his eyes (again), I thought, "Some habits... not worth quitting..and you can't get cancer from shit talking (at least last time I checked) "
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