When Sportmanship Left the Building

As a huge sports fan and frequent spectator at visiting stadiums, there are unwritten rules you just know before even entering ‘enemy’ territory.  For instance, if you’re wearing visiting colors you automatically set yourself up for ridicule and being poked fun of.  I have experienced this many-a-time when attending Yankees games in Anaheim.  Granted, that stadium is mild (to the point of the Angels fans almost welcoming you into their house) compared to other environments.

The same can be said when going to a local watering hole.

This weekend was no different, except for one, I was with my people at a New York Giants bar in Southern California.  A great group of fans become instant friends.  That same group of now best friends will always have your back – no matter what.  Power in numbers.

And here’s my story of how when you’re cheering for the other team, maybe you should keep your mouth shut, just suck it up or just leave.

The game: The New York Giants at The New England Patriots – in a Super Bowl 42 re-match

The place: O’Briens Irish Pub in Santa Monica California – a New York Giants watering hole for all transplanted New Yorkers

The situation: A New England Patriots fan very bravely joins us at the bar to watch the game – with his girlfriend who is wearing a Dallas Cowboys shirt.  And we all acknowledge this very brave guy in his colors, who happened to be very cool and very respectful in our house.  I cannot say the same thing about the company he chooses to keep.

Now, for those of you who are not sports fans, the only people who really like and cheer for the Cowboys are Cowboys fans.  It’s a universal understanding that they’re not very liked unless you’re from Texas.  The answer to the question of, “Who is your favorite team?” is usually answered with “(enter favorite team) and whoever is playing the Cowboys.”

That being said, the game between the Giants and the Patriots was one for the ages.  It was intense and it was a battle and it was the only game all season that went into halftime tied at 0’s.  Both teams came out strong, but the thing all of the Giants fans love to do is to make fun of Tom Brady, the QB of the Patriots – and it usually went to the sound of “Waaaaah!” when he screwed up.  And “Waaaaaaaaaaah!” we did – most of the second half.

And here is where sportsmanship should have walked out of the door when she had a chance.

While the game was getting heated and exciting, so were we.  We were all cheering and screaming for the Giants – or maybe it was all of us willing them to win, but we knew we had to do our part to get our victory.

And then out of nowhere, ‘Cowgirl’ chick picks me, out of everyone who was in there, and starts telling me to “Shut the (insert the ‘f’ word here) up.”  Whelp, as you can imagine, I didn’t appreciate that and told her that if she didn’t like it, leave.

“Why should I leave?  I was here first you big, fat bitch.” 

“Maybe because this is a Giants bar!”  I’m just stating the facts here.  She’s lucky she was allowed in with that shirt on in the first place.

And WOW!  She went there.  You need to understand something here, when you hear the statement, “Everything is bigger in Texas,” they’re not lying.

This is where my people stood up for me.  Stepping in to divert a situation because they saw I really was about to punch her in the face.  And it was awesome to have a bunch of people that you only watch football with on Sunday’s totally having your back.  With my 6’4” friend stepping in and asking her, “Do you see her?  You might have 40 pounds on her, but she’s got 5 inches on you and she’s an athlete – she’ll destroy you, so go sit down and don’t say anything for the rest of the game.  You’re in our bar, wearing a COWBOYS shirt.  If I were you, I’d turn around right now, hang with your boyfriend and not say another word.”

Cowboys fan answers with, “I really don’t need to be sitting here listening to her effin’ bullshit and screaming ‘waaaaaaah’ after every play.”

Again, my friend responds with, “Then leave.  There are plenty of places for you to watch a football game that is on national television.”

Cowboys fan adds in, “I don’t know what place is worse, this one or The Shack down the street where you need a reservation to watch a game.”  And with that, my friends knowing how close I am with the clientele that frequents The Shack, told her that she needed to stop talking at that moment.

Eventually the situation subsides, but we didn’t let up.  It kind of gave us permission to keep on taunting her – and not even her boyfriend, wearing a Patriots shirt.  We were never vicious or rude to her – we never said anything against the Cowboys, and trust me, we could have all started the “Cowboys Suck” chant, but we didn’t, in fact we couldn’t care less, there was a great game on – and we never said anything to her.  So her attack on me in essence came out of nowhere.

Most of the people there who witnessed the situation needed an explanation or felt they needed to share comforting words with me.  They said that she was jealous and miserable and that I was the bigger person in that situation – in fact I wasn’t – I would have punched her, but had a great friend mediating.  Whatever it might be, the lack of respect for another human being was disgusting on her part, but I was able to rise above it and realize that when you’re that miserable with yourself you want people to come to your pity party – but none of us accepted that invite.

The game goes down to the wire – just like it did at the Super Bowl.  The Giants mount a beautiful comeback and win the game.   And Patriots boy very quickly gets his girlfriend out of the bar, while congratulating us on our win.  Class act.  Too bad we can’t say the same about her.

Moral of the story – If you can’t take the heat, don’t even go into the kitchen.

Nine Ten

As Sunday approaches, I’m very solemn.  Sunday marks the 10^th anniversary of the most tragic day in history – the day the World Trade Center came tumbling down due to the Al Quaida douche bags.  And also a day that my guiding spirits saved my life.  Yes, I knew people who worked in the Towers.  I lost a lot of friends.  My cousin was in the Towers when the planes struck.  But out of the tragedy came some great stories like people changing their routine so they could vote in the Primary elections; people who wanted to spend a few extra minutes in bed or with their significant others; people who took the time to take their kids to school on a gorgeous Tuesday morning before going to work; people missing their normal trains or buses because they stopped to get coffee or a paper.  Amazing stories of coincidence.

And I too have my own story.  You see, I was on that flight out of Newark airport on 9/10.

I was in New York for the NY Jets home opener.  My Pops and I have had tickets for over 40 years and staying true to our tradition of going to the first game, I flew back to see my family and go to the game.  It was hot, bright and sunny – and the Jets got a lovely clinic from the awesome Peyton Manning and company.  Regardless, it was opening day, I was with my Pops, I got to spend a great weekend with my family and football was back!

I always took one of the first flights out on the Monday after a game so that I could get into my office in Los Angeles and finish the work day – tired of course.  That Monday was gorgeous in New York City.  And I remember soaking in the smells, the sights, everything.  I don’t know if I had a premonition, but something inside me was telling me to relish the skyline because it was so spectacular against the bright sun.  A lady sitting next to me turned to me and said, “Oh my, this is so amazing.  I just spent a week in the city.  It was my first time here and it’s so grandiose.  The buildings are so tall and close together and everywhere, but what a different perspective you get from seeing it upon take off.”  I completely agreed with her – it was spectacular.  Not wanting to be rude, I smiled politely, but I really wanted to take in this vision of seeing the World Trade Towers with the Chrysler Building and the Empire State Building as the anchors to the skyline of the best city in the world. 

After the skyline was out of site, trapped on a plane for 5 hours, I sat and reflected about it.  Remembering stories that my Grandparents would tell me of when construction started on them and how it really disrupted their lives, as they lived in downtown Manhattan.  And although quite young when construction was complete, I could never remember a time when they weren’t there.  They were a staple – like bread and butter.

Until the next day.

I woke up to Doc on the Rocks on KROQ, which was weird, cos Kevin and Bean do the morning show, and I thought I was having a weird dream hearing, “This is not a joke.  A plane has just flown into the World Trade Center in New York.  We will bring you up to the minute coverage and details as they become available.  Once again, a plane has crashed into the World Trade Center.”

WHAT?  What the hell is he talking about?  My ex-husband and I immediately roll over to turn the television on and became horrified at what we were seeing.  The Tower was on fire.  We were trying to listen to the commentary, but to me, it was just sound reverberating in one ear and out the other.  It was the next sentence that I absorbed that left me numb and my ex crying.  “A plane departing Newark Airport and headed to Los Angeles International airport has crashed into the World Trade Center.”  I started shaking, but all I could think about was who I knew who worked in the Towers and would they be able to get out.  Then it hit me, my Cousin Bob was in the Towers.  A big veep for one of the huge investment companies that call the Towers home.  Holy crap – I have to call Cousin Sandy, stat.  Who else do I know?  Wait…call my Dad, find out what’s going on.  Where’s my brother?  Where’s Tara?  What sorority sisters of mine work in the Towers?  My head is racing, I can’t form a thought.  Wait, I need to call work to tell them I’m going to be late.  I have to get in touch with my family.  My great Aunt and Uncle live downtown, not far from where my Grandparents lived, are they okay?  Holy crap.

Oh my god…another plane just hit the second Tower.   My legs buckled beneath me.  I fell to the floor.

It took me a while to pull it together for a moment and grab the land line and my mobile.  I can’t reach anyone.  No calls were going through to the city, Long Island, Queens, Westchester.  Remember, the Internet was a baby in 2001, so there were no social networking sites like Facebook or Twitter to scour for information.

Holy shit…the Towers are falling.  Are those people jumping out of the windows?  What the fuck?

At this point, I have no words.  I still hadn’t called in to work and at this point, I told my ex that they could fire me because I wasn’t leaving the house until I reached my family.  And as it turned out, I would be waiting almost 10 hours before I spoke to anyone.

My Los Angeles friends were calling me all day to check in and see if I knew anyone in the Towers.  The only answer I had was, “Yes, I know a lot of people who work there, but I have no idea if they got out alive.”  I really needed to talk to someone from my family.

I watch as the other Tower comes down.  I watch as the people who were saved are being walked across the Brooklyn Bridge.  I desperately look at the faces to see if I see anyone I know.  The city is being blanketed with smoke and ash.   This is just so awful.

At 8pm, the phone that hadn’t stopped ringing all day, rang once again.  It was my Dad (finally) who somehow got a phone connection from Manhattan.  He said he needed to make it a short conversation as he didn’t know how long the connection would last because they were few and far to come by.  He said that he was safe, my brother and Tara were safe, but he didn’t know if Cousin Bob was able to get out of the Towers and no one can get a hold of Cousin Sandy and they’re trying to find out if my great Aunt and Uncle were in the city this week, but he’d fill me in as he got information, but to think good thoughts for the family.

I remember pacing.  I remember an 8 month old Smitty being very confused and cuddling with me as I was crying all day.  I remember chanting and praying – for survivors, for the NYFD and all the fire rescue teams that courageously lost their lives trying to save others, for peace for the deceased, for a phone call telling me Cousin Bob was alive, for news on my friends, for everything really.

And then, on a whim, I decided to try and call Cousin Sandy.  And the call goes through!!  Through tears, she tells me that she finally heard from Cousin Bob, who out of the kindness and good will of fellow NYers, borrowed someone’s cell phone who was getting a signal and that he was alive and walked over the bridge to safety.  She didn’t know when he’d be home, but he was safe and shaken up and completely freaked out.  I started crying immediately upon hearing that news – relief tears and then ask about my great Aunt and Uncle, who were also fine.  We hung up shortly after that and I just stood in my living room shaking and crying.  At least I know one person who made it out alive.

It wasn’t until a few months later, when I was able to travel again and get back to New York and see my Cousin Bob that I realized how selfless and monumental my Cousin Bob’s actions were.  He and six of his co-workers rallied together, amongst announcements in the Towers telling everyone to stay put because rescuers were on the way, that they basically said, “Eff that.  We can see the other Tower on fire, we’re out of here.”  They were thinking that because the fire was so close, it was going to jump to their Tower, they had no idea that the second plane was about to crash into their Tower.  Teamwork and an action plan allowed them to evacuate all six floors of their company out of the buildings.  I believe they only lost a handful of people.

I know everyone has a 9/11 story.  Everyone has some sort of connection to 9/11.  Everyone worldwide was affected by the events of 9/11.  And this is my story.  This is how it affected me.  And this is how my life was spared – because I decided to come back to Los Angeles on a Monday instead of a Tuesday.  Not a day goes by that I don’t relive that day.  Not a day goes by that I don’t thank my guiding spirits and lucky stars for being on a plane on 9/10.  Not a day goes by that I don’t grieve for the thousands lost on that horrific morning.  And not a day goes by that I don’t give thanks to be alive.

Don't Tell Me I'm Not A Mom

Don’t tell me I’m not a Mom

Don’t tell me I’m not a Mom just because I don’t have children with 2 legs.

Don’t tell me I’m not a Mom because I have and care for ‘children’ of the 4 legged furry kind.

Don’t tell me “It’s not the same.”

Because I’ll tell you, you’re right.

It’s not the same.  Because your 2 legged children start to grow up and become independent and less needy of you.

My 4 legged children will always depend on me for everything.

It’s not the same.  Because your 2 legged children will start to go to the bathroom by themselves and know what to do when other kids are mean to them.

My 4 legged children will always need me to take them outside for walks and stick up for them when other dogs are mean to them.

It’s not the same.  Even though your 2 legged children will get sick and need you to care for them, eventually they’ll care for themselves.

My 4 legged children will never be able to take care of themselves.  I’ll always have to take them to the vet.  Clean up after them.  Wipe their cute noses.  Pick up their poop.  Deal with how to get the smell out of the carpet when they can’t control their bladder.  Change the sheets when they have an accident while sleeping and snuggling with me.  And try to figure out what’s wrong when they’re sick when they can’t use words and just look at you hoping you’ll figure it out.

Don’t tell me I’m not a Mom when I would sell a kidney if it would make my sick baby completely healthy in lieu of watching him suffer from diabetes.

Don’t tell me I’m not a Mom when I get as much joy from watching my furries run, play, swim and roll over to get their belly’s scratched as you do watching your 2 legged children score a goal, hit a home run or receive a diploma.

Don’t tell me I’m not a Mom when I take off of work to tend to a sick 4 legged child like you would for your 2 legged child.

Don’t tell me I’ll never know what motherhood is like – because I do.  As I bet we’d all take a bullet for our ‘Children.’  So don’t tell me I’m not a Mom cos I don’t have 2 legged children when I made the choice not to have 2 legged children.

PROOF THAT I CALLED THE 3K JETER HOMER

ME:  Had a little premonition a moment ago - Derek Jeter makes it to 3k this weekend...and his 3000th hit will be a homer! JETER WATCH IN FULL EFFECT!!Top of Form  July 8 at 11:51am ·

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Wow... Good call!!!!  Saturday at 11:01am

No way! U called it!  Saturday at 11:05am

OMG!!!!!!  Saturday at 11:05am

GTFOH!! OK...what stocks do you forsee taking off? :-)  Saturday at 11:08am 

ME:  Now...that's the way you hit your 3000th hit. And you heard it here first. Just saying.  Saturday at 11:08am

It's a good thing you didn't live in Salem a few hundred years ago! Gr8 call!  Saturday at 11:18am

Wow....good call.  Saturday at 11:31am

Thanks Stad. Coming from you, that's kinda huge. Cos I know when you first saw the post you did a snicker accompanied by an eye and head roll. :)  Saturday at 11:33am 

good call but not as impressive as the post call...because that's Stad's reaction to everything :-)  Saturday at 11:35am

Stop picking on my Stad. That's one of the reasons we keep him around. We all need cynicism and sarcasm!!  Saturday at 11:40am

Mindi The Magnificent.  Saturday at 11:46am

what a fucking soothsayer you are!!! Amazing.  Saturday at 12:00pm 

we were in Ventura saturday afternoon... saw the highlights later in the day and thought of your post - insane! well done.  Yesterday at 8:42am

OMFG!!!!! Jesus F'ing Christ!!!!!!! You can see the future!!! You called it. Jeter's milestone was a home run!!! Congrats. Happy for your team. Top of Form  Saturday at 11:27am

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Nice farking call, Sista Min.  Top of FormSaturday at 12:04pm

·          

• OMG. I'm still crying over it. So special. I really did wake up yesterday just knowing it. Crazy, right?  Saturday at 12:06pm
• insane...

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ME:  "I would like to thank the good Lord for making me a Yankee."Top of Form  Saturday at 12:53pm

·         I have that hanging in my office! Great day to be a Yankee fan.  Saturday at 6:17pm

• Hell yah it is!!!!!!!!!!!Bottom of Form

Beach Puggies

My furry children give me pure happiness on an everyday basis. I know you all know that. But last night, I had such fun watching them have fun.

I played beach volleyball with my football team. I don't think I've played volleyball in 15 years!!  So I took the boys with me cos they love just being with me, going "in a car" and "on a trip" but they also love rolling around in the sand.  They've never been in the ocean before and I didn't know how they'd react to it, so I took them to the water and slowly introduced them to the ocean.

Otis wasn't too sure about it.  I don't know if it's cos he really can't see very well and it was unfamiliar territory, but every time the waves came up to us he'd run to me.  He really didn't know what to make of it and stayed close.  But Smitty...it took him a minute or two, but he became so enamored with the waves that he was running in and out of the ocean and chasing the waves and would look up at me when they'd subside almost asking, "Mommy, where'd they go?" And then keep chasing them in and out of the water.

Soon, they gathered a small fan club who crowded around to watch them play in the water - it really was a sight to see, and everyone was just laughing.  It was the sweetest, purest, lightest joy to watch them on the beach playing in the water.

I'm guessing that this is what parents must feel when watching life through a child's eyes?  But I just had to share that cos it filled my heart with such pure happiness.  Next time, I must record it cos it was just so awesome to see.

By the way, I think the entire beach is in my car but it also wiped them out!!

Sometimes If You Don't Know...Either Mind Your Own Business or Smile

I just got back from the vet with my two yummies.  One of the yummies is very sick.  Besides dealing with him and his life-long disease, I (like almost everyone today) have a lot going on - a lot of worries, stresses and ups and downs while trying to figure everything out.

On my way out of the vet today, after getting some really upsetting news, I really wasn't in the mood to have a conversation with anyone, nor was I in the mood for Smitty & Otis to play with any dogs.  I guess two people waiting to see the vet thought that was rude - even with tears streaming down my face.  When their dogs entangled mine on the way to the car I got annoyed while untangling them trying to walk away.  They said something like, "They just want to play."  I said, "I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood," gave a half smile and walked away.

Both people waiting to see the vet started screaming at me across the parking lot, yelling that I was rude and the dogs just wanted to play and I needed to be nicer.  So I put my dogs in the car, walked back over there and said to them, "Sometimes you just don't know what people are going through, so maybe instead of bitching behind my back, either mind your own business, come up to me and say what you need to directly to my face or try this one on for size, just smile at someone, cos sometimes that could make someone's hard day a little bit better."

Leaving the two speechless, I walked away crying, got in the car, smiled at my pugs and watched Otis, very weakly climb into the backseat for the short drive home.

Otis was diagnosed with diabetes when he was 2 years old.  He's now 8.  I was told that diabetes for a dog could dramatically shorten his lifespan causing liver disease.  After testing his blood glucose levels, which came back off the chart, the vet thinks this could be the onset of liver failure - just because his symptoms this time around are exactly the same as 6 years ago: loss of appetite; extreme water drinking; uncontrollable bladder; lethargic; sleeping more than usual; yellow eyes; and sleeping alone under a chair instead of with me or Smitty.

Otis got a saline drip, a super charged shot of insulin and an anti-histamine injection (which is supposed to help enhance his appetite) and will go back tomorrow for more blood work to see if he's stabilized.  If not - I'm going to have to make a decision that as much as one prepares themselves for, one is never truly ready to make.