sports from my point of view

attention, compromise, dating, relationships, sports



Dear male population,

There is a big difference in the way guys and gals look at the world of sports.

I don't come from a sports oriented family.  I was not overly encouraged to play sports and be on teams.  Though, I was not discouraged either.  If I wanted to play, I got to play.  Evidenced by a season of t-ball in elementary school, volleyball and swimming in junior high, a few seasons of track… and a couple seasons on the dance team culminating in being a cheerleader my senior year. 

I will not take this moment to argue with anyone that cheerleading and dance is in fact a sport.  Just know, I will argue about it until I'm blue in the face.  Bring it tough guy.

Where was I?  Oh yeah…

Since my parents were not sports-following people, the game was not on at my house with any regularity.  When my brother became old enough to command control of the remote every time a baseball game was broadcast, it was coming into our house loud and clear.  In fact, I was not allowed to play the piano in the other room while the game was on.  Meanie big brother.  Humph.

I was filled with facts about Ken Griffey Jr being the best player ever.  And yes, it was a fact.  In no way was I allowed to disagree or contest the FACT.  Ever.  

I have a distinct memory of another brother telling me that I didn't need to be afraid of The Joker because he was a Lakers fan.  This of course being The Joker played by Jack Nicholson who still has floor seats to the Lakers 20 years later.

I've always kept a pulse on the sports world, albeit a faint one.  I know what season it is, what championship is coming up, who's playing, and who the star players are.  If there is game on that catches my attention, I watch it.  But it's not typical for me to follow a team or wear official team gear, let alone a jersey.  It just hasn't been my thing.

As I've grown up and become interested in keeping a man's attention, I've noticed the impact the sports world has on the tender disposition of the male population. And having always been attracted to the athlete, sports comes with the territory.  Fierce loyalty and trash talk are essential.  I even enjoy it.

The truth is, I care about sports because you care.  I may not be into it as much as you are, but I consider it my job as a girl to know what makes you tick. Knowing what's going on with your team lets me know if I need to cancel my girls night out to console you over a devastating loss. Or why you're doing some kind of happy dance while reading about player trades mid-season. Or why on earth you would stay up until early hours of the morning to watch a game, which turns out to be a huge rivalry and in fact, you don't understand how I can sleep through a game like this.

The other thing?  I remember stuff.  So when I spend 5 minutes reading an article, or listening to you talk, on how they offered the Portland coach a gazillion dollars to stay in Portland instead of going to LA, and Kemba Walker is only a junior but he's already graduating early instead of staying to play another year, and that Tom Brady played for Michigan and wasn't drafted until the 6th round but is the only QB from that year still playing… I just remember it.

I understand that sports are a huge part of your life as a dude.  I've accepted it and really, it's one of the things I like about you.  

But to ensure mutual understanding and acceptance on this subject, please read the following:

 Since I may not have a team of my own, don't hate if I side with you and root for yours. It makes the games more fun to watch. 

I know that Sundays were made for watching the game and it will be on ALL the time.  I'm good with that.  As long as I get some *ahem* attention in the morning.  Or take me to breakfast if you're gonna ignore me the rest of the day.

I don't care if you go, but please don't make me go to ALL the games with you.  To ensure the health of this relationship, please have a wolf pack.  

At some point, maybe multiple times, I will test my skill in distracting you from a game.  Don't worry, I pick my games wisely.



crazy girlfriend

crazy, crazy girlfriend, dating, girlfriend, relationships

Photo 153

I consider myself a reasonably sane person.  Really, I do. 

I consciously work to keep my emotions in check.  I try not to over-analyze and over-process.  I work to stay neutral.  Too much to the right or left and my abilities to over-process go into, well, over-drive.

But we all know that an emotion suppressed is a ticking bomb. So is it really my fault? Either way, this leads to freaking out.  Good or bad, freaking out is a talent I wish I had not had the opportunity to master.

There have been times in my dating life when I go with the flow.  No problems.  No emotional break downs, no freak outs, and no relationship insecurities surface.  In hindsight, I realize it's because with these guys, perfectly nice guys, there is no fire, no connection, no… toxic spark. The relationship is missing the intangibles.  He is not what I'm looking for.  And if he isn't what I'm looking for, and this isn't gonna last, why put myself out there in such a way to become vulnerable?  Which, if I'm not opening myself to that person, how viable is the relationship, and why would I continue to spend time and energy? Waste time and energy. Not only mine, but his too? 

That would be why we no longer date.  Can you say over-process?  Whew.

The other reason he and I are no longer a “we”:  That boy drew out an emotion from deep inside me that made me want to connect, share, and be vulnerable. And I flipped into “crazy girlfriend”.  Yep, she's tragic.  An emotional disaster.  A hot mess.  She needs more validation and reassurance than I really want to admit.

The trick to the well-being of my relationship is containing “crazy girlfriend” once she rears her ugly emotional head.  It's crazy difficult.  Almost impossible. History shows that once she makes her appearance it takes a while for her to chill the hell out and leave.  Not like a zit that sticks around and taunts you for a week.  More like a bruised fingernail that can be covered up with bright cheery colors, but it's still there, tender and sore for weeks and weeks.

The worst thing about “crazy girlfriend” showing up?  Her uncanny ability to train-wreck a relationship.  And when she has successfully trashed the connection and doused the sparks, because she does every time,  she is left all alone with her craziness.

And she becomes crazy lonely.