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Yeah- I know, so many different parallels to take here and so little time and space to really even scratch the surface of the depth in which this exists.

            Therefore I am going to begin a weekly look at a different aspect of marriage and it's correspondence to a given sport until, well ****- I guess until I am out of ideas.

            Today will be my first entry into this topic and I am going to take it back to where it all starts...

            Dating.

            We have all been there, everyone has a first time.  First arranged by your folks.  First girl your buddy pressured you into going out with so they can date her friend.  First girl you finally worked up the guts to ask.  First girl who just said, "yes."  Everyone has different firsts, and there is a plethora of them, so let's start off at the top. 

The arranged date, AKA "blind date..."

 Maybe it was Mom, maybe it was a "friend," but the arranged date, better known as "blind date" is the epitome of disaster in the making.  In sports terms... she's the extra ticket.  No- not, "be the tenth caller and answer the question correctly and you'll win two tickets to blah blah blah."  That's called a prize fool... 

No, no, no- this chick is the life sucking, butt kicking, mutant beast from hell that looks NOTHING like the way she was described.  If you ask, "what's she look like," and hear she has a pretty face, then she's got a big arse.  If she is "shapely," we are talking a human weeble.  If she's "well dressed," she's the freaky home schooled chick that actually wears the clothes her Grandparents buy her still.  Again, disaster.  If you ask why and hear she has had some bad luck lately, this chick is probably fugly and you have a 50/50 chance knocked up too.  This scenario is comparable to a sports team like...

Drum roll please...

Da Cubs. 

Yeah, I said CUBS!  This is the flacking blind date franchise of the entire MLB.  This unlucky broad hasn't won crap in a century but somehow has more friends (fans) than God.  Looks like a good person to meet until you get there...  Not that Wrigley is hole, it's actually built on a flat surface so technically it's more comparable to the likes of a bucket.  The problem is, it's that bucket.  It's the construction site bucket that hauls whatever need to go, building materials, garbage, rancid food left by roofers from 3 weeks ago that the painters just discovered, and well, until the plumbers get everything done, yeah that bucket. 

Not that everything in Wrigley smells like that, I mean if you walk close enough to a concession stand you can smell a $7.00 hot dog too.  But I digress...

 

 

Up next, we have the peer pressure pick and just as similar as the guaranteed "yes" girl. 

You know, you're single, you're friends aren't.  The chicks they are dating wouldn't date you but would let you to date their friend...  Or was this just me?

Dam nit...

Anyhow, I am sure at least one other person here knows what I am talking about.  A girl is dating your buddy but doesn't feel comfortable being alone with him so brings her, not as good looking friend because A- she doesn't want her date checking out her friend (AKA Tupac's All Eyez on Me syndrome), B- the girl is more apt to speak for her friend with stupid and insensitive half thoughts (For instance- TO's publicist referring to the "millions of reasons [he has] to live) and finally C- she is also muscle.  And any one dude that has EVER tried to move up on the hot chick at the club knows there is a fat chick working interference on her.  Try to move around her and she'll crush you, try to move her and she's gonna throw down right there on the floor (similar to Chris Farley in drag).  And because she is coming along, your buddy now needs someone to keep her friend busy.  Yeah, guess what pal- "Tag, you're it!"

Regardless, this is the girl you are stuck with...  Right now- YOU are "taking one for the team."  You are doing this to stick with your posse.  You ARE a lemming.  You can now answer your mom truthfully, "yes mom- I would jump off a bridge with them." 

This is when you were growing up in the early 90's and being that one kid in your circle of friends that did not have a starter jacket for the Bulls, Braves, or frickin 49ers!  You have now become sports clothes ****. 

You keep telling yourself you did it so you could still be in that circle of friends.  You didn't want that old Members only jacket handed down from a friend of the family.  You know who won the World Series last week- why not be associated with a winner right?  It was cool...

Yeah well, maybe we were just too young to know we were a sell-out.  But hopefully by now you have made you picks and will stick to your teams.  Good and bad.

You suffer these trials.  You ask out girls you have a crush on, you like them but they don't like you.  I compare this to my fascination with the Detroit Lions when I was younger.  I loved the Tigers, my friends liked football too and there was some dude named Barry Sanders playing back then that looked like he was playing against high school like defenses with the way that man could run.  It was sick.  Anyhow, the Lions didn't like me, cause by the time I actually really understood the game, Barry left, and the Lions continue to suck to this day. 

Then there is that one woman you pursue.  And no- not with binoculars following her everywhere.  That's stalking brother.  But that one girl, caught your eye and the first thing that flashes into your mind in Mike Myers in Wayne's world stating, "oh yes she will be mine."  And she might turn you down at first, but you keep at it and eventually this becomes that one person in your life you would give up the other things for.  For me I followed a few sports and a few teams.  And usually I am tepid with them at best.  I grew up knowing about Detroit teams and being a fan of their franchises and clubs.  Pistons, Red Wings, Lions, all good- and with the exception of one, winning clubs.  But none of them compared to me and the way I followed the Tigers.  I was laughed at in grade school and high school, especially in college, but I was resolute.  I was a fan.  I would be asked back in ‘04 who I followed, I still said the Tigers.  Good times, bad times, I still followed them.  Kinda like when you find that one girl.  She might have more issues than National Geographic and not just have baggage but matching flacking luggage- but she is your girl.  The one.  You just one day you woke up and said to yourself why not just make this a permanent thing. 

You buy season tickets and look to take a seat that could well be yours for the rest of your life.  Just like an engagement ring, you're first years season tickets are a drop in the bucket in long term investment.  It's a commitment.  It's that first step into what is essentially a marriage.  It's a moment that scares the crap outta you cause it's good now, buuuuuut...

This brings me to my next topic.  Engagement and thoughts of commitment to one person/team for the rest of your life. 

Stay tuned, I'll be back with my next installment next week.  Ideas on parallels for the next installments, leave the ideas here!

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