well i have the microphone, and you don’t

In the past eight months (my God, has it been that long since I started blogging?), I have tried to be as eloquent as possible about the various highs and lows that come with being a coach’s daughter.  In my attempts to make the unexciting more thrilling, I have been rewarded with your readership and support.  With that in mind, I have really only one thing to say about today’s game.

Holy.  Crap.
I expected a beating.  I expected, even, a blowout.  I did not expect a 28-0 lead with 15 minutes remaining in the first half.  I did not expect every single one of our suited players scoring (a banked three, Meghan? REALLY?).  And I did not expect to see the student section wearing shirts with my dad’s face emblazoned on the front.  There’s Twilight Zone, and then there’s Gampel Pavilion.
I had planned on attending today’s game to bear witness to the unveiling of the championship banner, unfortunately my game partners Jenna and Todd couldn’t make it because Todd was feeling ill.  I decided that as much as I love my dad, he really didn’t need me there.  Plus, I’d be sitting by myself in a blocked off row, which could give others the impression that I was there strictly to view the game as a blogging opportunity and not as an actual chance to see the team play and connect with friends.  Besides, sitting through blowouts is boring.
You heard me.  After 24 years of watching Dad’s players beat other teams into oblivion, I am here to state fact: Sometimes it’s boring to watch so much talent kick the crap out of another team.  When it’s fun, it’s incredible; i.e., if another team has been talking a lot of trash about our players and our program before the game to rile us up.  When we go out and beat them by 50, that is one fun game to watch.  But when it’s a team like Northeastern, who never really even did anything to deserve a 70 point throttling, it can be a little uncomfortable to watch.  By the 18 minute mark in the second half, Todd stood up and announced “I can’t watch this anymore!” and walked out.  Jenna and I flipped between the game, 100 Greatest Songs of the 90s and The Wedding Singer before giving up entirely.
It sounds like we’re spoiled.  Which we are.  We’re just used to winning like this.  It’s the way we were brought up.  When the game is close, Jenna handles it a lot better than me.  When we were down 14 to Rutgers two years ago in the Regional Finals, I stood in front of the TV waving my hands like a madman and Jenna compulsively washed the same spoon over and over again until the game was over.  Then minute that buzzer went off we conga’d across the kitchen, drunk with joy.
When we lose, it’s a shock to the bones of our family.  The last time we lost in the regular season was to Rutgers.  I went to that game and I hate games down there.  Not so much when we win, but when we lose it’s quite painful.  The fans are…well.  I won’t go into exact detail as to what I think of the fans down there.  But suffice to say that when a school’s band is yelling “Ha ha, you lost your last game here” to an injured Mel Thomas as she walks off the court, there’s a good chance that I won’t be singing its praises.  
Sometimes outrageous fans come from the unlikeliest of places.  I remember one time when the team played at Holy Cross, someone held a sign up in back of Dad’s head that announced “He Just Farted.”  Now, as a person, I found this out of line.  As a daughter, I found it hilarious.
After the game, I managed to talk to dad for a few moments.  I told him the team he’s got this year is absolutely ridiculous.  And he just laughed.  And kept on laughing.
All the way to the Alamo.
It should be quite a season.  Hold on to your hats…
ally
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