September 12, 2010


Yesterday, by all accounts, had all the makings of a beautiful day. My wife finally had a Sunday off. The weather was supposed to be perfect. And the most happening street fair, The Abbot Kinney Festival, was taking place one town over.
Alas, it was a Sunday. And not only were the Denver Broncos playing, but the Colorado Rockies were facing a must win.
I had been greatly disappointed by both teams in the past. And I have struggled with my fanatical allegiance to Denver sports as the most silly and uncontrollable of my addictions. But, I had become fed up living for the hopes and dreams of other, stronger men.
So on Thursday, after the Broncos lost another running back to a pulled hamstring, I agreed to skip watching the game to go to the fair with said wife. 
However, when it came time to getting off the couch and foraging into the sunlight, I could not shake the fact that my teams needed me. How could I expect them to fight, if I was not there in the trenches with them?
Fortunately, my wife's needs are more immediately pressing than my teams’. So, I reluctantly got ready. I grumbled my way through my shower. I grumbled my way out the door. I grumbled all the way to the fair. I grumbled even more as we paid $20 for parking.
But as I walked through the crowd, I got swept up. It took me exactly one lunch truck to get over myself. There was energy and vibrance and art in the air. There were good friends to talk to. Beautiful freaks to look at. And beers to drink in the sunshine.
And, yes, both my teams lost. But while I still blame myself for those losses, I have a tan face, a full belly, and a happy wife to assuage my guilt.

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