Suldog is a true lover of sport. He is a lifelong fan of all teams from Boston. That's fine. I wish him well. You already know my relationship to sports is one of somewhat grudging acceptance which occasionally tips over into actual enjoyment if my son is involved. (Oh and to further demonstrate my cred as a late in life baseball fan...Armando Galarraga was COMPLETELY robbed of making history last night by pitching the third perfect game in a single season [in a month no less] when the first base ump called the runner safe. Seriously, even this athletically declined, middle-aged, near-sighted, formerly baseball hating woman could see he was UNDENIABLY safe! But I digress...)
Anyway, Suldog explains how when the Celtics were being beaten by the Sixers in the semifinal one year the Boston fans began to chant, "Beat L.A.!" and actually urged on their great East Coast rivals to take down the West Coast team. My reasons have absolutely nothing to do with any great sports rivalry. It has everything to do with being scarred for life by a poster of Magic Johnson.
Mr. Lime and I met in college. We actually married when we were both still students. I was still an undergrad. Mr. Lime was a graduate student. As such, our decor was decidedly less sophisticated than you would find in Better Homes and Gardens. Heck it still is (remember the pink Disney TV in Manland?) but we have at least replaced the milk crate shelving with the finest warped and knotty pine off the reject pile at the local lumber yard. Thankfully, we've also replaced posters on the walls with family pictures.
*not the poster in question though this would be bad enoughThe poster in question was a nearly life sized shot of Magic Johnson going for a layup. His feet were off the ground. His hands in position to dunk the ball with great authority. He had a deranged look in his eyes and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. It would actually be a great sort of poster for a sports themed den or Manland or some dark cave you'd never see. The problem was...
...it hung in our bedroom...
...on the wall at the foot of our bed.
*also not the poster in question but it's pretty bad and I still couldn't find the actual poster
Excuse me a moment...the tics are starting...I need to regain composure. Breathing deeply...envisioning Hugh Jackman drizzled with chocolate sauce...sighing....Ok, I think I can continue now.
*not covered in chocolate but still a mighty fine antidoteMy friends, may I just say if there is going to be ANYTHING in the bedroom that could be referred to as a "magic johnson" it had better not be wearing a Lakers jersey.
With that I will add my voice to the chorus of, "Beat L.A.!"
17 comments:
OK - I managed not to spit my coffee all over the monitor, though I did have to lean over and dribble some onto the floor so as not to stain my clean shirt.
Very funny. Thanks for the morning laugh.
Some things are better left unsaid Trini.....
Something about 'beat the Magic Johnson' just. . . well, you know. . .
Of course, I was at Michigan State at the same time as Mr. Johnson, and have spent my entire adult life living in his hometown. But I don't think I'd hang his poster over our marital bed. . .
Instead, we have a poster of Albert Einstein, wearing a bemused smirk, over the caption, "Gravitation Cannot Be Held Responsible for People Falling In Love". Get it? Gravitation. . . Falling. . .? So, sometimes in the throes of, um, marital passion, my wife will look up to have her distant gaze met by Einstein's bemused smirk. . .
And your baseball cred is all good, my friend. I'm still sick to my stomach this morning. Not as much as Jim Joyce (the umpire from last night's Tiger game), though. . .
I've also long thought that the local sportswriter who first dubbed the young (HS sophomore) Mr. Johnson 'Magic', unwittingly blessed him with one of the all-time great pickup lines - "You wanna find out why they call me 'Magic Johnson'?"
Oh, and for your viewing pleasure. . .
Oh, you and your magic, Lime!
I had my comment aaall figured out, but then I got to that last picture and I completely forgot what I was going to say...
First, I thank you for the linky love!
Second, all thoughts directed towards the downfall of the Lakers are gratefully accepted, no matter what the cause.
Third, I watched that call last night, causing Gallaraga to miss his perfect game, and I was apoplectic. I was yelling and cursing. MY WIFE finally said, "You know, he can't hear you through the TV screen." I sat down and wrote about 1500 words concerning it, intending to publish today. However, I heard Umpire Jim Joyce's apology, and the magnanimous way Gallaraga himself accepted same, and I trashed my writing. If Gallaraga can be that accepting, who am I to pile on?
Fourth, I wish you the best of luck concerning Mr. Jackman. Perhaps if you build a huge tub and fill it with chocolate sauce, he will come?
Fifth, yes, that's a double entendre.
I think you might be able to explain Baseball even to me, Lime...if I could stop laughing that is.
hee hee
That really is a great story.
Ha! I hope you burned it. But you have to admit that if you play with the Beat LA theme and mix it with your story, it can come out all wrong... as in beating a magic johnson. ;-)
which would you have preferred, the Magic Johnson poster or a Michael Jackson poster???
I was laughing at "magic johnson" in the bedroom and just as that moment my hubby walked into the room. Hugh Jackman's picture was on the screen. I think I'm in a bit of trouble. Actually, maybe I was drooling as well as laughing.
lol. does a magic johnson take AA or AAA batteries?
Hey well, I think you have your new bedroom poster right there at the bottom of post!
;)
Hee hee!
Catching up. I don't think I'd want any sports posters of any sort anywhere in my house Fortunately, I wasn't married to a sports person when I was a married student.
And apparently I'm a comma.
In his own way, Magic was campaigning to slow the spread of AIDS in every bedroom where that poster was hung. What a hormone kill.
Hugh Jackman....yeah he's the magic now :-)
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