Friday, July 18, 2008

Pry My Remote From My Cold Dead Hand

Ashamed to say I missed last night's summer league action against the Pistons. We won, but the score's close enough that I wish I would've caught it. What can I say, life intervened.

Here's one of the small upsides to being a girl when it comes to sports fandom; assuming that you like guys, the odds of finding a partner who'll tolerate your insane behavior are better. "Baby I love you so please don't take it personally when I scream I want Dirk to have my babies." (In all seriousness, if he approaches starting a family with the same dedication and constant-upgrades attitude he brings to basketball, his future bride is a very lucky lady.)

But the Almighty, in His wisdom, made humanity so diverse that finding someone who'll share every single one of your obsessions isn't gonna happen. Grownups who prefer being together to being apart compromise. And it's always good to have the ground rules spelled out.

Course that's for football. For us basketball crazies, the logistics are trickier. Sixteen games plus single-game elimination . . . versus eighty-two games plus best-of-seven (and if you're really hardcore, there's FIBA).

It's not fun being single . . . then again, absolute posession of the remote control is a definite upside.

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