Winning is very exciting isn't it?
Losing is really not so exciting.
I hate it when my family's favorite teams lose. Not because I am so upset--I am a life-long original Philadelphian, I always expect failure but at the same time my ego forces me to exude false confidence when faced with any outside negativity--but because my family gets so upset. And it isn't that I feel badly that they are upset--I am also who I am and easily annoyed by crying and depression over things that are unimportant--I just don't want to deal with the bad mood that follows. Plus, like I said, winning is very exciting!
And, who wants to be a loser?
Not me! Although there have been a few times in my life during which I sort of did not want my children to win certain sporting events because the play-offs would negatively affect my schedule. I KNOW THIS IS WRONG. BUT, I also know several of you have expressed similar feelings to me, so don't throw stones! My house has 120 year stained glass and that is expensive to restore!
And for the record, my wishing had no effect on the outcome of the game--the children won-and IT WAS VERY EXCITING, because who wants to be a loser!!!???
I grew up reading in the rec room recliner (usually Nancy Drew, until I graduated to Sweet Valley High and later Jane Austen and Mary Higgins Clark and Margaret Atwood) while my Dad sat in a straight back chair watching the Eagles. I'd occasionally poke my head out to watch; but mostly I was soothed by the announcer and the whistle and my Dad's occasional clapping and much more frequent judgmental growling. He'd make me pay attention to the moments in the game that brought on his judgement and I would; because really I was the only one who was available or cared, even a little bit.
I always looked forward to Sunday football. It always sort of relaxed me. To this day, football game sounds put me in a very zen place. I don't fall asleep, but I feel my heart rate slowing and my mind clearing and go to a whole other realm. It is the peace of my childhood--those whistles and official calls and my Dad's voice complaining. If I close my eyes, I can still hear the sound of his clap.
Anyway, Mike went to Minneapolis for the last Super Bowl and it is one of my best memories. He was so thankful to go and so excited and my children walked around bragging about their Dad at the Super Bowl (so that was good for them!) and we had our own fun Super Bowl party on Eldridge with my mom. The whole thing was so exciting!
Mike called me after the game and seemed to be sort of crying and mentioning my Dad and how excited my Dad would have been. And in that moment, even though I have a low tolerance for both happy and sad crying, I sort of became an actual Eagles Fan. My fan-hood was not out of love for my Dad; but out of love for this wonderful man I married who loved my Dad so much that he thought of him after the biggest game ever. My fan-hood was remembering the sound of my Dad clapping and my childhood days at home with my family and knowing that my kids get those same childhood Sundays watching the game with Mike (while I read, on commercials only, unless I am at a good part!).
I am forever an Eagles fan, because someday, my kids will be watching a game with their families and remember the sound of their father clapping--and in that clap, all the love will fill them, as it filled me.
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