Okay, so it's like nearly 2 a.m., and I'm googling (googeling?) like mad trying to figure out who won the Tiger's game (I went to bed. I was too tired to stay up)--now, in the past, I wasn't one to get into sports of any kind, as a (pseudo) feminist of sorts, I sports are kind of lame--men looking like apes in ill-fitting tight pants swinging bats like clubs through the air to hit rock-like balls and then running around the bags. Totally bizarre and pointless, but for some reason the hubby decided to take up watching the Tiger's games because he says it makes him feel more manly ( I guess writing short horror stories, reading 1980s comic books, eating bowls of chili and farting profusely doesn't do it for him), and me, being desperately too tired at night to do much of anything else, started conking out on the sofa starting at the barbaric shitfest with him. (Now that is more bizarre than wearing ugly, ankle-tight pants, which I might add, they [The Gap, Old Navy, even K-mart] brought back this season.) And I even ended up going to a game with Chris a couple months ago, guzzled fuckloads (40+ dollars worth) of beer, got tore up, and shouted until my lungs fell out. Proof here:
You can witness more, here. But now I'm starting to forget the point of this. Oh yeah, this lovely quote from Tiger's Manager (who Chris & I will swear up and down we saw at a local diner two months ago):
"We have to win three games in a row," Tigers manager Jim Leyland said after the game [they lost 4-5]. "Can we do that? Absolutely. Are we in a good position? Absolutely not."
Nice. (I'm saying "nice" in a long drawn out kind of way--not aloud, but in my head.) I guess I will have to resort to watching gorillas in equally as tight pants, but with shoulder pads, knocking each other down because one of the gorillas caught a pig sack (???) and they are running to one end of the clearing that happens to have lines on it. But at least the Detroit Lions never disappoint us. They always loose, and that's something to cheer for.