wine by the color

Sunday, December 21, 2008

Things were going well...

I watched my younger nephew shine as a wise man in his nursery school's Christmas pageant. I took some time off from work and spent a few lovely days with the Captain. We enjoyed the first real snow of the year, which we braved only to hit the diner. We did a whole lot of nothing outside of build a fire, watch crap television and enjoy each other's company. I sent the first saucy Christmas-themed e-mail to myself ("Give Your Girl Christmas Fever"). I found some old friends on Facebook. I had a terrific wine-filled lunch with Mary Ellen (and really, don't cocktails in the mid-afternoon taste just a little better?). I spent some quality shopping time with my brother and made a huge dent in the gift wrapping. I baked some cookies, did all the laundry, finished the Christmas cards and was overall pretty damned pleased with myself.

And then, the game started and it all went to shit...

Pretty weather. But one of the ugliest games I've ever seen.

Originally, I planned to head down the shore to watch the game with the Captain and his friends. But I needed to accomplish a bevy of holiday-related tasks today, so I stayed home. And thank goodness I did, for otherwise his friends would think I am an absolute crazy person. My behavior during the game was not great. And the post-game pouting was definitely unbecoming (and, quite frankly, has yet to end, almost five hours later).

A few of the e-mails and text messages I sent following the conclusion of the game:

-I may never watch football again.
-Fuckers. Fucking Jets. Fuckity fuck fuck.
-As someone who threw my jersey across the room, I understand and support that move (in response to a text from The Captain, who reported one of his friends had cut up his Jets sweatshirt and tacked it to the dartboard in the bar).
-A huge assumption. I'd fire him on the plane on the way back home. Dumb dickhead (in response to a comment about Mangini's future and whether he'll hold practices on the West coast next year).
-I haven't been this cranky in a VERY long time. It has been an afternoon of tantrums at Casa Magnolia.
-Perhaps the only good thing to come from today's fucking shitfest debacle is that it's less likely they'll flex next week's tilt to the night game.

Shortly after the game ended, I sent the following e-mail to the Professor: As Jets fans, would we rather they lose to Miami next week, thus allowing the Dolphins to make the playoffs? Or do we root for the win, which would likely mean another trip to the playoffs for the Patriots and their douchbag coach?

It's like a Sophie's Choice for Jet fans. And I don't have an answer.


  • At 12/22/2008 7:20 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    As mush as I would like to answer root for Miami, you just can't do it if there is a chance (no matter how slim) that you can make the playoffs. I remember a few years back, last game of the season against the Packers and half the stadium was outside watching the end of the Miami/NE game. Once the outcome we needed happened, the half full stadium went nuts and the other half came in for a big party. You never know in NFL football.


  • At 12/22/2008 8:00 AM, Blogger jersey girl said…

    BB, a fair point. But I don't expect the Pats to lose at Buffalo. That's what well-coached, successful teams do - they win when they have to.

    At least we won't have to wait until 8 p.m. to learn the Jets' fate. Thankfully the NFL has flexed the Chargers-Broncos game to the evening tilt, saving us the torture of freezing our asses off at the Meadowlands that evening.

  • At 12/22/2008 3:36 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    I hate 4:15 games too!!! Ugggggg!!!

  • At 12/22/2008 5:23 PM, Blogger jersey girl said…

    I'm not thrilled with that but I'll certainly take it over an 8 p.m. start.

  • At 12/24/2008 12:15 AM, Blogger David said…

    For you, the anti-Pats fan:


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