Monday, May 19, 2008
Fisher missed his second free throw. And I knew it was destiny---we would win. After an amazing rally in the last 2 minutes and a series of impossible 3-point shots, fate had handed us a gift. Fisher was 100% from the free throw line up to that point. One last three-pointer and we'd head into overtime, where our momentum would have given us the win.
2 shots later, the game was over. And so was our season. 2 days later, I am finally able to express the sense of disillusionment and loss I have felt. Our miracle resurgence was truly brilliant, but in the long run it couldn't compensate for a slow opening. And it will take some time to recover, but I do believe healing will come.
So now for a bit of self-evaluation. I've always enjoyed sports, but something this year of my life has turned me into a minor fanatic. I actually watched portions of the NFL draft to follow my Michigan boys. I'm planning my fall recital around Michigan football. I haven't missed watching a Jazz game since school ended. I know stats, heights, birthdays and hometowns of most of their players.
WHY?! From where is this newfound passion derived? And as Derek Zoolander would be inclined to say, "Who am I?"
A bit extreme, I realize. But it would be interesting to pinpoint the psychological cause of my sports obsession. If you can provide an analysis (free of charge), please feel free. Otherwise I'll continue to ponder the mysteries of my universe.
On an almost completely unrelated note, for those of you interested in orchestrating my love life, please use the following picture as a guide. Please especially note the height. While any set-ups comparable to this are welcome, the real thing would be ideal.