Angry. Irate. Frustrated. Hostile. Raging. Furious. All hell was breaking loose as these emotions consumed me. I was so upset that I was practically foaming at the mouth.
You sit there with high hopes and they crush you. You feel like you can count on them, but they let you down. They tell you that you can expect great things from them this year and they don’t come through. It was the most gut-wrenching six hours I’ve spent on a Saturday … well at least this year.
I was so angry that I actually screamed. Not a chick scary movie scream, an Incredible Hulk-Wolverine scream deep from my gut.
My mom and dude rushed in, a little freaked out, to see what could possibly ignite such madness.
“What happened! Are you all right?”
I pointed at the screen. They noticed the fans rushing the field and the score.
They shook their heads and went back downstairs.
Football. It was college football.
Who was responsible?
These two dudes. Completely responsible for all the profanity, jumping, wall pounding, yelling, and superstitious ritual rally cap wearing throughout the day.
First D’Amato stirred the pot with his non-kicking skills. He went 0 for 3 today. I’d understand 2 for 3, possibly accept 1 for 3. But 0 for 3. Dude if you were a stockbroker you’d so be fired with that stat. He missed three field goals that changed the momentum of the game and the mojo of his team. This is where the frustration began. Even though The CAL Golden Bears made a comeback , they ended up losing to Ohio State.
I was so upset that I had to leave the house. I chose to exit a cool-air-conditioned living room for a 100-degree blaring heat. I just couldn’t be in the same room with the television.
After I calmed down, I returned for what I thought would be a game to turn things around for me. An event so awesome that I would high-five myself. But no … none of that. I can’t even begin to explain the amount of errors on the field today. Interceptions. Duuuuuuuuuuuuuude. The thought of it riles me up a bit. I better stop and count to ten.
Rehashing the game will only infuriate me, and I am currently at an acceptable chocolate and alcohol induced state. I’d like to keep it that way before going to sleep.
But in short, the anger just boiled over with the USC Trojans Football Team. I mean they lost to Stanford, for crying out loud. There mascot is a tree. This is where the Incredible Hulk-Wolverine powerful yelling began. However this time I couldn’t escape immediately. I had to read The Adventures of Woody and Buzz Lightyear and put the kids to sleep.
This did not help improve my mood.
I so wanted to break up with both of these teams. But I didn’t. I ended going out for a run. If I had a punching bag that would have been so much better. But instead I put on my New Balance and hit the pavement.
Better, but not great, because after the anger, came the heartbreak, and then the drinking.
But then a friend of mine sent me a text message and it made me laugh:
“Like Frida said … I tried to drown my sorrows with alcohol, but they eventually learned how to swim!”
Enter chocolate. Lots of chocolate. No swimming back from that one.