Showing posts with label sports. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sports. Show all posts

Friday, March 13, 2009

Jonseing


Basketball Jones - Barry White and Chris Rock

Sure, sure - I know.  The original is here.  (And wow - Cheech & Chong would prolly get strung up for that cartoon in this day and age.)  But who can resist Barry White?  You want some chicken?  LOL

The Borrowed One has been playing in the church league.  And I drag him to all of his games.  So right now...I got a basketball jones. 

And last night - I actually watched an ACC tournament game.  On purpose.  (Not entirely true - Earl was a rerun.)  I may, emphasis on MAY, even play brackets this year.  With money.  Which is making me feel kind of dirty.

But let's talk about playing ball for Jesus a bit.

The league consists of local churches, all men.  I'd say it's about a 50/50 split between white churches and black churches.  So pretty much on any game night, you're going to see something pretty dang entertaining.  I tend to be entertained by everything there but the actual game.

Before each game starts both teams and the refs meet at half court and say a prayer.  Most of the crowd goes silent but sometimes there's a lot of talking going on and you don't get to hear anything until AMEN is said.  Let me tell you, I LOVE it when the black church teams get to pray.  The game BO played last week was against a black church and there was lots of Faaather Goyed! and Lore-ed in that sing-song deep voice.  (Must be the Barry talkin'.)  This prayer was focused on good sportsmanship to "ourselves, our teams and each other."

And then the game started.

And that prayer was pretty quickly forgotten.  Commence trash talking, pouting, distracting moves - I can't stand the WOO HOOs someone will make from the defense when trying to get the offense to pass them the ball (but it does sometimes work).  Sometimes I want to stand up and scream YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE PLAYING BALL FOR JESUS!!

Which is why I told the husband for the last two seasons that he will NEVER play ball for Jesus.  He can't keep his mouth shut from the trash talk, cusses too much and doesn't go to church.  No Jesus ball for YOU!

But mostly, it's all done with fun and nobody gets truly hurt.  Feelings are a different story.  At least this year with the new church BO is getting a lot of play time instead of riding the bench so Mr. Spectacular Ball Hog can play the entire game with no breaks.   Let me tell you, driving you and your entire family 15 miles into the country to play ball for Jesus and BO just rides the bench...yep, that'd piss anybody off. 

Sometimes I do more people watching than pay attention to the game.  

There's an Episcopalian team, white church - there's got to be something in the communion wafers over there because EVERY guy on their team is TALL.  Not just tall but almost abnormally tall.  The guy who works at Quizno's plays on this team.  I fight the urge to yell GO QUIZNO'S! when he makes a good play.

Another white church team, Methodists - they all look like a bunch of farmers.  Mega farmer tans beam from under their tank jerseys.  There's one guy in particular that just cracks me up - his hair is a little on the longer/bigger side (but still short) and he's got a bit of the crazy eyes.  When he's in his game, HE'S IN HIS GAME.  His eyes are always blazing but when he's played for a while his hair sweats up and gets crazy and he gets all read in the face.  Very Ernest T. Bass like.  And I am in the stands laughing like a hyena on the inside.

There's another white church team, also Methodists and a dude that looks like Jay (Silent Bob's friend) right down to the long blond hair.  Having an almost fivehead, he also arches his eyebrows so it looks like he's in a constant state of surprise, but his eyes are barely open like he's stoned.  This is something I just can not look away from.  He is Mr. White Basketball as far as he's concerned.  He comes to the court in civilian clothes, carries an enormous duffel bag into the locker room and re-emerges as Mr. W. Basketball in his uniform - complete with matching shorts (church only provides jersey) and a few support items, usually one long sock looking thing  on his arm and some tape on the fingers.  He is a pretty good ball player though.  And not really horrible to look at.  Last week he treated us to undressing at the bench instead of the locker room.  *waggles eyebrows*

There's another guy on a white church Methodist team that used to look like Lars Ulrich.  When we first played him last year it was driving me nuts because I thought I knew that guy.  I searched and searched and SEARCHED my mind trying to figure out where I knew him from.  Elder Spawn went to a game and saw him and said, "That dude looks like Lars."  And I slapped my forehead like I could of had a V8.  Sadly, now I have to say USED to look like Lars because homeboy got him some Just For Men and his hair is darker and he's way less Lars-y now.  This team also looks like a bunch of farmers.

The refs are awesome.  One of them is my former Vice-Principal from high school.  He's very Richard Roundtree looking and acting.  Daaaaamn right.  He was straight up in school and he's the same on the court.   A few games ago a parent was pissed over a call he made and the parent yelled out something smart-assy.  When he said it, it really did sound like it came from the court and Mr. Moe whipped around looking for who it came from and I almost peed my pants.  I'd seen that look before, sitting in his office, receiving a lecture.  Shut yo mouth!  The parent noticed Mr. Moe was pissed and said it was him and the rest of us in the stands were all nodding our heads like good little school children.  The man's still got it.

As much as I like basketball and enjoy rooting for the team, I know that this too shall pass.  We start tournament play Monday.  Based on the team's performance this season, we're not going to go very far unless we get really lucky.  

And I'm kind of glad.  My hands hurt from sitting on them all the time and my tongue hurts from almost biting it off.  It's not just the Husband....I couldn't (or rather should not) play ball for Jesus either.

Monday, December 29, 2008

GAME ON SUCKA!!



The winter ping pong season has started.  Being a bit fluffy and allergic to most things known as "exercise" I dig the pong.  Pong makes me move, jump around, curse, sweat and think.  The crushing of small plastic balls with paddles is really good for a girl's (is ego appropriate here?) (let's settle for something nice instead) winter exercise needs.  

The husband and I play at the neighbors' house.  Our neighbors have the best toys.  There must be some kind of toy quality/quantity ratio that becomes greater the older you get - directionally proportionate to your children growing up and move out/away.  OH MAN!!!  I can't wait to have awesome toys too!  

The women got off to a good start, despite being R-U-S-T-Y.  We won the first night of play but haven't done too well since.  The ladies don't play as often as the men folk do.  The men compete often because that's what boys do ya' know?  The women usually have their bitch-asses in the kitchen making pies.  Or not.  

We usually play women versus men because it's more fun that way and there's no fighting afterwards - just gloating.  The men are rather husbandly about their wins, just enough gloat to say "We won!" (and Please don't poison our dinner because we did win, please!?) Wives show no mercy.  Copious amounts of gloating ensue if the women win.  Us women tend to go for the throat (or lower) when we win.  

I can't think of many things that are more gratifying than busting their collective asses so when the ladies do win, it's awesome.  And quite often, in the middle of a match, if we're winning - I can hear "FINISH HIM!" in my mind.  And I just go crazy.  I get full-on possessed by the pong demons.  Sometimes they let me win but sometimes they get all backed up in there and I beat myself with very bad and greedy plays.

January and February are pretty damn drab at the beach.  Coldest time of year (for the beach - it's a real bitch compared to Minnesota, or so I hear.  Ha!).  I'm so glad it's pong season so we don't go stir crazy!  So what are YOU going to do for the next two months?  

Monday, June 23, 2008

In the final laps of Sunday's race...

I was not in the pool. The race was in Callie Fornie so it was a late start. Too much cold water, overcast skies and intermittent sprinkles made it hard to swim. In fact, we didn't get to swim all weekend.

But we did talk during the final laps of the race, Her and I. She did not have good news. She laid down her Shock and Awe on me. I kissed baby goodnight, hugged Husband tight and drove to Her.

I stayed for about an hour. She filled me in on what happened and we began to make a game plan. We were interrupted by a phone call and a visit and at Her request, I left. She had business to tend to.

I can't believe what just happened. Completely out of nowhere and everywhere at once. Very close to home, my fingers are tracing old childhood scars. I know I came out of it, on the other side, the good side - well maybe the OK side on a bumpy road. I shamefully repeated the cycle to my own child. I sure am worried about my girls.

It will not be easy but it will get better. I will be a good friend. I will be a good godparent. I will be a good marksman if need be.

Monday, June 16, 2008

Tiger Woods is no Dr. Phil

It's 4:25ish and the work phone rings. TV goes on mute, it's now "safe" to answer the phone. (I was watching CNN like a good little girl.)

Me: Good afternoon, NAME OF MY WORKPLACE.

Her: Are you watching TV?

Me: Yep, it's on.

Her: Are you watching Tiger Woods?

Me: Why would I be watching Tiger Woods? He's not a race car driver.

Her: They're playing today, the playoff!

Me: Ok, channel 6, right? (I know this because Dr. Phil is not on today. Stupid golf.)

Her: Yep.

Me: Some dark guy in a red tshirt is on the green. Wait, both guys are dark...AND wearing red shirts!!! (Again, if this was racing, they'd at least be wearing different numbers!!!)

Her: That's probably Rocco.

Me: No, it's Tiger. He's fake swinging his putt. He fake swings again. Ok, he hit it this time...and .... it's going to be JUST SHORT!

Her: NO WAY!

Me: Yes way! And he's ON HIS KNEES in anguish! (Could golf be any more exciting?)

Her: Has the other guy shot?

Me: Nope, he's up next. But they're showing the replay of his reaction to Tiger's play and he and his caddy both laughed when Tiger missed. Golf asses!!

Her: Bastards!!

Me: Ok, here he goes. Fake swing, fake swing, HIT! OH, he waaaaaaaaay over shot!

Her: Oh no! I wonder if they're still tied?

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This is where the light bulb finally switches ON and blinds me with ... science.
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Me: The damn TV is still on mute. (unmute TV) Yes, Tiger won.

Her: WOO HOO!

Me: Damn, I'm an idiot. If I realized the TV was on mute I could have let you LISTEN to what was going on the whole time instead of relaying a play-by-play of a NASCAR fan watching golf.

Her: Well that's been bothering me since my lunch break, thanks for checking it out for me.

Me: You're welcome, talk to you later!

Ahhh...the benefits of friendship. I am SO calling her from the swimming pool on Sunday with 4 laps to go in the race. Let's hear golf girl make the play-by-play on the race!!