The Agony of Defeat

it wasn't the biggest game of the year. It could have been but it was just a semi final. And I lost, not me personally but the team I adore and the coach I defended through the "cheat" outing! And my super-good boy-lovely-handsome-player that is not a quarterback!

I know-I know you expect to hear this shit on Sports Center, not Mobe's place...I love football and just can't help it. I never got to see a game in high school because I had too many home responsibilities. I went to a few basketball games and for the longest time basketball and baseball were the shit in my young adult world. Roger Clemens was the Rocket and we were an awesome force on the diamond, and we had Larry Bird and the fab four who wound up on the US Olympic Basketball team all in the 80's and early 90's. Times were good coming off the Reagan Era of indulgence! Then I found football. It was a matter of "if you can't beat 'em join 'em!" I had mostly men friends and they mostly sat on their ever diminishing asses and drank beer and ate nachos and subs while yelling at their tv's! One friend even picked his up and smashed it to bits! I soon figured if I wanted action on a Monday night it was going to be to the tune of Bocephus singing "Are You Ready For Some Football!" I not only watched Monday Night Football but I threw the party of the week. To hell with Friday nights or Saturday night at the bowling alley. I made food and it was a BYOS party-bring your own shit....all food and drink was free but if yah wanted to "drink" or "smoke" it was on your house not mine! Man! I had an ounce left over after the party and bottles of liquor strewn across the counters...My buds would leave the lag for me as a present for the kick ass parties we had...hell most of the fuckers knew me personally in the biblical sense and a few of their girlfriend's too. One such bum was pissed because he was sure she was cheating on him and tried as he may to catch her but little did he know what a good little ass kisser, amongst other things she liked to kiss, she was! (Giggles)

So today, for the first time I got to watch a game with family. I don't usually do that as I have always kept a safe distance per the restraining order I wished I had on them all, and never really spent any "good time" with them. I lost my home this December and was quite ok with just chilling in my room with my kid but decided to be social with the rest of the house. So I screamed from the sofa and clapped my hands and starved myself holding out hope they would pull it off. I knew the other team had a great defense. I also knew we have overcome worse situations. I also knew in the last quarter that I have seen crazier miracles than a team coming back in 4 minutes with two touchdowns to upset the game with a turn around and win. Only there was "little bro" whining we had lost before the buzzer and friends online sending their "ill will" and I know damn well it wasn't my cheering that let me down!! *wipes a feign tear from her right eye socket...I do know this, and it even comes as a shock to me to say this. My beloved coach, beloved because while other girls had a crush on sexy TOM I have a crush on the "captain of the ship" who was more suitable to my likes looks-wise and age -wise, the coach...Bill Belichek-mobe's "belly bear," pulled out my favorite player in the first quarter for a disagreement of sorts. Poor Wes Welker, if I was younger he would be my boy, was benched and my hopes with him. I know I wasn't the only Patriot to feel it too as I was posting online and bitchin' the whole way to stick my boy in the fucking game. Peeps were "liking" it too...so in the last quarter, number 83 Wes Welker(Wessie if you love him) was on the field and we started looking good. But, it was too late. Too TOO late!! I am not mad...I am not even furious. I am just sad. So I say to him:

"Belly Bear," couldn't you let the verbal pop go?? Honey I love yah and would love to kiss yah, but couldn't you keep one of the best runners we got right now to stay in the whole damn game?? Moral was lost and we lost and I still love you and Wessie too...just next year take a Cymbalta and keep my boy in!!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

p.s....profs to number 84 for the great TD's and plays he made! profs to the Jets for making it to the final four...profs to the fans who filled Gillette stadium and braved the frigging cold and to the fans who watched the whole disaster to the end and still love those boys!