So you probably figured out I’m a Jets fan. And it’s a great time to be one. They’ve been more lucky than good, but they’ve been winning when they need to. And this Sunday at 1:30 my time (the only time I care about) they take on the annoyingly great Tom Brady and the undeniably amazing coach with no personality, Bill Belichick. The New England Patriots. Greatriots if you love them, Hateriots if you’re like me. I want the Jets to destroy them. To wipe the smug off Brady’s face, and the grease out of his hair.
Now last time, they murderlized us. It was embarrassing. Hard to go out in public. But this time the Jets will prevail, and I will witness this historical event while sitting in front of my living room TV and I will not be disturbed. YEAH, RIGHT!
All this is a just giant preamble to how everything that seems good in my life eventually gets crushed into tiny, little, miserable pieces. I may be overstating it a bit. You decide.
So my daughter is on a cheer squad. And they enter all these competitions. They’re not very good. Actually, they suck. Don’t worry, they know it. They’re so bad we don’t even have a disillusioned parent among us. But, dutiful Dad that I am, I go. Okay, my wife makes me. Why should she suffer alone, she figures. So here’s the bad news. They’re currently in some major tournament, and the other teams…well, the other teams are inconceivably…WORSE! How is this even possible?!
You see where this is going? Yeah! The friggin’ dance finals, of the worst teams ever, are this Sunday! During my JETS GAME!! Listen, people. I’m a good father. Love my kids. Drive ‘em everywhere, go to whatever inane thing they’re into at the moment. I’ve made sacrifice after sacrifice. But this?! Come on!! So here are my two no-win choices:
- I go to the dance competition and hate my daughter (just for a week or two); or
- I watch my beloved Jets win, but am unable to enjoy it AT ALL because of the GINORMOUS guilt I’ll feel for not going to watch my little girl (who doesn’t even really like me these days)
And any of you who are saying, “Just TiVo the game,” know nothing! One, it’s not the same; and two, no way someone doesn’t ruin it for me before I get safely home. You know I’m right.
There’s no help here. So just let me be a bitter, angry man for a while. go jets. yay.