Sports hate me

I love sports. That's no secret.


What was unknown before this weekend is that sports hate me.

Yesterday I plopped down on my couch to watch the final round of the Nissan Open golf tournament and the self proclaimed "Super Bowl of NASCAR" the Daytona 500. I can't explain why, but golf and auto racing are just a little more exciting in High-Def. It's true.

Anyways, Rachel's two least favorite things in the world are watching golf and NASCAR on TV. So she went into the other room. Pretty soon she fell asleep. I also found out that my interest in NASCAR and golf will only carry me so far, as I too conked out in front of the tube. I woke up a few hours later with drool on my cheek and about forty-five minutes left in each event.

By this time Rachel's about ready to go Jackie Chan on our TV. As the two events are finally reaching their respective ends, I'm getting a little more interested in seeing who will win. This feeling was offset by the death glares Rachel's shooting through the ol' Samsung. These feelings of anger gave way to utter defeat on her part, and I swear she turned into Eeyore there for a second.

At this point, I'm no longer enjoying watching sports because I realize that I am slowly killing my wife. So I say "fine let's go do something." Meanwhile, the race has 15 laps to go, and Phil Mickelson is walking up to the 17th tee with a one stroke lead. Seems like things are pretty much wrapped up. Rachel, attempting to put on a noble face, says valiantly "you can watch the end.....it'd be stupid not to." I don't have the heart to say that all the fun has been sucked out of the ending whatever it may be. I'm just praying for a quick and painless ending. Traveling at 180 miles an hour with 15 miles to go, the race should be over in about 6 minutes. Phil's just gotta knock the ball around 4 times and take his par and a win.

Sunday February 18th, 2007 will forever be known as the day sports decided to test my marriage. Wouldn't you know it, there's a wreck and NASCAR decides to completely stop the race to clean off the track. They have 5 miles left in the damn race! Meanwhile on CBS, Phil Mickelson is busy choking away a victory, two putting for bogey to send the tournament into a sudden death playoff. At this point Rachel mutters something under her breath I'm not sure is printable in this blog, and I just think "there's no way I'm sleeping easy tonight."

Lesson learned yesterday: If there's ever a golf tournament or NASCAR race that I ever want to watch again, I will record them and watch them at 3 in the morning when there's no chance they will ruin my weekend again.