Idiots Write About Sports

I admit I am still steamed about being called a mean blogger, along with the misrepresentations of the rest of the blogging world. I shouldn’t be surprised when old media lashes out at things they don’t understand. (Full disclosure: I actually work for a company that publishes a fairly large magazine, so I realize it’s hard for such places to embrace the web… but, guys, you’ve gotta embrace it or die…) And it still pisses me off that Dave Albee, in the same breath as chastizing a blogger for ripping Joe Ayoob (who is, after all, just a college kid), off-handedly ripped Justin Vedder (who was, at the time, just a college kid). Pots and kettles, both black.

But enough of that. It’s time for me to calm down and go to my happy place. In fact, it’s a happy place I even blogged about.

It’s Section FF, about 20 rows up, at Memorial Stadium. September 27, 2003. Late evening.

And USC hasn’t lost since.

Happy place… happy place…

Thanks but no thanks, Seth... I'll let it lie now.

Posted by Jason at October 25, 2005 10:56 PM

I find it infinitely amusing that your happy place involves Phil being stepped on.

"I find it infinitely amusing that your happy place involves Phil being stepped on."

Suddenly, my complicated relationship with Jason makes a whole lot more sense to me.

Not only that, but Phil being stepped on by his own father!

Take that, Luke Skywalker!

Posted by Jason at October 26, 2005 02:48 PM

No!

That's not true! That's _IMPOSSIBLE_!

Man, 2003 was the one year I didn't get season tickets. My first son was due to be born in August of that year when the ticket renewal forms came and I didn't think the door would be unlocked when I got back home from the games if I bought the tickets.

Instead I bought single game tickets to the Big Game (for all 3 of us, that way she couldn't lock the door) and circled on the calendar the USC game to consider buying tickets for as the game got closer (and could evaluate the likelihood of the door being locked when I got home once the boy was born). About a month before the USC game I got a call from an old friend I hadn't seen in over a year who had his 2nd child a month before mine. He was having a BBQ on the same day. I grudgingly accepted knowing that the chances of us getting together any other time was slim but very much wanting to go to the game.

I remember turning on the radio on the way home from the BBQ and it was in the 3rd quarter, Cal was up 21-14. It was probably the most enjoyable game I've ever listened to on the radio but it somehow always felt empty because I knew I should have been there to witness it.

I still kick myself everytime the stat gets brought up (USC hasn't lost in X games).

What I need to get over this is to see a similarly enjoyable upset on Nov. 12, right guys?

I admit I was a bit sad when the Notre Dame-USC game happened this year, because now USC has played two games in the last three years where they really should've lost but didn't. So that makes Cal's one tight one and one victory slightly less special.

Posted by Jason at October 26, 2005 03:38 PM

Notre Dame is a bunch of bush-league cheaters. If they had normal-length grass on the field, USC would have been running past them all day.

I admit that I had a hard time deciding what I felt about the USC-Notre Dame game. I mean, I tell people that my four favorite college football teams are Cal, whoever's playing Stanford, whoever's playing USC, and whoever's playing Notre Dame. I get this cognitive dissonance three times a year or so, when two of my hated teams face one another. It was even worse this year. I so wanted USC to lose, but also didn't want them to lose. Very confusing.

I don't know if I'd call letting your grass grow long "cheating". But bush league? That I can get behind.

Posted by Jason at October 26, 2005 08:05 PM

" i learned this from my brief stint at berkeley, i can say whatever the FU*K I WANT TO AND U CAN'T DO NOTHING ABOUT IT, ANTI-ANTI AYOOB PEOPLE!"

Maybe you should have spent more time learning how to express yourself without using vulgarities.

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