There’s No Winning with This One. Trust Me.

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:

  1. I go to the dance competition and hate my daughter (just for a week or two); or
  2. 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.


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3 Responses to There’s No Winning with This One. Trust Me.

  1. Jet Setter says:

    You’re kidding right?
    You didn’t mention option #3…
    Work called, you have to go in Sunday and handle the tightest deadline of your career.

    Dang, is this your first rodeo?

    Go Jets!

    • It’s not my first rodeo, cowboy, but I always fall off the bull within one second, so why bother. Seriously, I don’t know about your wife (assuming you have one), but no way my wife, or my daughter for that matter, would fall for the “oh darn, I have to go into work this Sunday! Poor me!” routine. Nope. I just have to suffer. And the Jets…MY Jets…will have to win without me yelling at them through my TV. Hope they can do it. And as far as my daughter’s dance team, well, win or lose, I’ll still be miserable. It is, after all, all about me. Go Jets! For real.

  2. Jet Setter says:

    Wow, you’re not just the world’s best father, you’re a Saint.
    Oh yeah, the Saints are done.
    Put a fork in them done.

    And yes I have a wife. A loving wife who understands a man’s needs. You know, like working the occasional weekend when duty calls,

    Have a great weekend.

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