it's march, and it's madness
so, north carolina won today. it was a good game. and as ACC tourney champs, the team was bestowed with hats and T-shirts at the end of the game - a victory celebration per say.
as i watched them rejoice on camera, the fact that i am a slighted mizzou fan may not have helped matters. i also may not have been in a conducive viewing environment, as i was watching from the comfort of my new, sexy gym.
you see, my Ipod was my soundtrack to the shots on screen - the crowd going wild, the emotions of the team and the coaches and the cheerleaders. hero shots and shots full of action coupled with lots of jumping, tears and fist pumps - all took place as jose gonzalez played in my ear. i couldn't hear the announcer or the on-court reporting. but that didn't mean i missed a vision that blew me away. minutes after the game ended, an ecstatic north carolina basketball team was almost all clad in tourney T-shirts and winner's hats. the hats still had price tags on them. i imagine the shirts may have, too.
and, even though i wanted to get emotional with them, cry a tear of joy, think about how Roy is great and deserved to win and, perhaps even muster a little yelp, all i could do was bitterly whisper to myself about how putting the winning T-shirt and hat on AT the game, on the court, is much like wearing a concert tour shirt AT the concert it's advertising.
in my head, my rant may have read like the following:
yes, you won. congratulations. yes, you now have a really cool shirt and a hat, which you will probably parade around in later. it will grace the scene at bars and nightclubs and on your college campus, no doubt. but, please, wait to put that oversized shirt and that new, stiff hat on until you've left the arena. because, we know you won. it's obvious. and, we know you look ridiculous in those starched, new, bright white, beacons of winning. they were clean until now. now, they likely suffer the stench of a sweaty gamed out gamer. so, at the very least, now that you've soiled them, wash them before you make a second appearance in the presence of their glory.
i may be wrong. but, i couldn't get past it.
as i watched them rejoice on camera, the fact that i am a slighted mizzou fan may not have helped matters. i also may not have been in a conducive viewing environment, as i was watching from the comfort of my new, sexy gym.
you see, my Ipod was my soundtrack to the shots on screen - the crowd going wild, the emotions of the team and the coaches and the cheerleaders. hero shots and shots full of action coupled with lots of jumping, tears and fist pumps - all took place as jose gonzalez played in my ear. i couldn't hear the announcer or the on-court reporting. but that didn't mean i missed a vision that blew me away. minutes after the game ended, an ecstatic north carolina basketball team was almost all clad in tourney T-shirts and winner's hats. the hats still had price tags on them. i imagine the shirts may have, too.
and, even though i wanted to get emotional with them, cry a tear of joy, think about how Roy is great and deserved to win and, perhaps even muster a little yelp, all i could do was bitterly whisper to myself about how putting the winning T-shirt and hat on AT the game, on the court, is much like wearing a concert tour shirt AT the concert it's advertising.
in my head, my rant may have read like the following:
yes, you won. congratulations. yes, you now have a really cool shirt and a hat, which you will probably parade around in later. it will grace the scene at bars and nightclubs and on your college campus, no doubt. but, please, wait to put that oversized shirt and that new, stiff hat on until you've left the arena. because, we know you won. it's obvious. and, we know you look ridiculous in those starched, new, bright white, beacons of winning. they were clean until now. now, they likely suffer the stench of a sweaty gamed out gamer. so, at the very least, now that you've soiled them, wash them before you make a second appearance in the presence of their glory.
i may be wrong. but, i couldn't get past it.
Labels: and my opinion matters., sarcasm
posted by Pensive Girl @ 4:32 PM
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