This, in 1000 words, is what it means to be a fan of Houston sports teams. Play like crap most of the season, then come from seemingly nowhere and have a real shot at winning the division, only to then choke at the last minute or totally blow it in the actual playoffs. Earlier this week, I knew it was possible they’d win the division, but also knew it wasn’t very probable. And then they go and win nine games in a row, building up that little thing called Hope, which will probably come crashing down. Kinda like how a certain football team I know will go out and score a touchdown on their first drive of the game, and then apparently fall asleep for the remaining quarters. Here’s hoping the Astros can keep it up, and that the Cardinals get lost on the way to the ballpark. [And what the hell?? 1/2 a game behind??? Math is dumb.]
Speaking of football, the UT campus today was abuzz with excitement over the game tomorrow. We’re playing the mighty Bearkats of Sam Houston State…wait, what? You’ve never heard of them? You have no idea what the fuck a Bearkat is? Where have you been???
I understand why small schools want to play big ones – they get money and exposure they would never get. And I understand why big schools want to play them. But I can’t help but laugh at how this town really thinks they kick ass when we take down the University of North Texas (known for its music department), or Rice (known for its smartypants). And SHSU?? My parents went to SHSU. And despite what my mother (the school administrator) and father (the former TDC exec) will tell you, people only go to SHSU to be a teacher or work for the prisons. I spent a great deal of time in Hunstville when I was growing up; for a long time I thought I wanted to follow in my parent’s footsteps and go to school there. Never knew they had a football team. Don’t know where they put it. But we’ll see them tomorrow, and I can’t help but laugh at the newspaper insert devoted to game analysis.
Yes, I’m a cynic. Can you blame me? I’m a Houston Texans fan people. I spend my Sundays on my couch alternating between yelling at the beautiful HD big screen, crying, or just falling asleep out of disgust. Unless it’s an away game, in which case I meet up with my fellow masochists and do all that at a local pub.
See, really, God owes me the Astros. Me and everyone else in Houston.
My real heartbreaker though is the morning I spent in the vet’s office, trying to determine what is wrong with my beloved Vegas. He’s not well, and we have no idea what the cause is, other than he ate something he shouldn’t have. He and my roommate’s dog spend a lot of time rooting around in the backyard (we joke about the truffles that must be there), so it’s highly possible he ate some foreign something. I’m not ruling out lizards or toads. He is by no means the agressive type, so I don’t really see him attacking something for the purpose of eating it, but he’s a dog. He’s been loaded up with fluids and drugs and so far there hasn’t been much improvement. If he’s not better by the morning, he’s going to have to go to the hospital, which neither one of us is looking forward to, but for somewhat different reasons. I have informed him that he is not allowed to leave me, and he usually listens pretty well, so we’ve got that going for us.
Poker has been played recently, believe it or not. As reading game theory on the treadmill proved to be a bit difficult, I resumed my previously inspired by Daddy practice of propping the laptop up on the treadmill and hitting the limit tables. My win rate at the Full Tilt 1/2 limit games is
awesome terrible, just terrible. I should really stop.
And on the question of the blogs and the dying, I have some thoughts. First off, what the hell are all you people doing listening to F-Train in the first place? He’s a lawyer from New York. That shit will get you killed in Texas. Second off, I liked BG’s thoughts, but then again, I always do, because BG pretty much rulez. Third, I offer you my three simple rules for happy blogging: 1) Read whatever you want. 2) Write whatever you want. 3) Don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about #1 or #2. So there you go. Go forth and be happy. Personally, this site no longer pleases me, because it’s kinda ugly. (Don’t lie. It has no feelings, it’s OK.) It will change soon, just as soon as Chris and I have free time, and everyone’s favorite geek returns from abroad, where I have worked out a highly complex chocolate chip cookie for WordPress migration exchange.
I’m planning a trip next month to celebrate my 30th birthday, and while Vegas seems like the natural and obvious choice, I’m seriously considering elsewhere. I’ve also considered Vegas for Thanksgiving, as I’ve never seen Vegas in the fall. And then, of course, there is the traditional WPBT winter trip to Vegas.
Was someone going to get on planning that?
I guess this is what happens when you (apparently) do a good job planning the event, and also make the mistake of letting it slip that you enjoy doing such things, huh? [My mental illness has long been established.] I am, of course, happy to do so and will, unless someone wants to take the reins right now. Otherwise, we’re getting close to go time and I need to start e-mailing and calling. While I would prefer January, it’s a bad time what with the PokerStars Carribean tourney and then Tunica, which I know several of you are planning on attending.
SO. Here’s hoping for a great weekend, full of beautiful weather, winning teams and healthy dogs. Unless of course you’re a Cardinals, Braves, or Dolphins fan; in which case I hope your weekend kinda sucks.