i have this joke--i can't remember where exactly i picked it up, but almost surely from a camp friend back in the day--about how i'm the center of the universe. holding up my left index finger vertically, i proclaim, "this is me." then i begin to orbit my downward-pointed right index finger around my left index finger, which remains still: "and this is the rest of the universe."
sometimes i think i really think that. i try not to, but i can be very puerile that way. i think that's why i don't always enjoy children. they have the nerve to believe that *they're* the center of the universe. i mean, honestly: the audacity.
an example: last night, we watched the steelers play the jaguars. now, the jaguars have played well this season and have handed us our pride before. recently, in fact. but i had hope. i mean, we're the *steelers.* sure, we've had lots of injuries of key players this season--no willie parker, no troy polamalu, ben roethlisberger and najeh davenport getting the crap beaten out of them game after game, and even the sweet man himself, hines ward, was a grumpy-grump last night. but i really thought we could pull it off.
after a very fun afternoon out with m'girls (see another post for that), i was exhausted when i got home and napped away the time that i should have spent changing into some steelers gear. i secretly knew that nothing was clean and that this would mean doing laundry. and who wants to do laundry when you can nap? (answer: not me.) so i told myself that, if i just knitted something black and gold during the game, that would be good enough.
ha. not so much. we flailed during the first half. a couple of minutes into the third quarter, i said to smartboy, "maybe i should go put on some steelers gear." (note: he has no steelers gear. when i insist on him wearing black and gold--which i did not last night, shame on me--he wears his office t-shirt, which is black with a gold bridge on it. this is NOT an acceptable substitute. i tried to shame him last weekend, when we were out shopping and nearly every person we saw was wearing a steelers jersey. it did not work. the man does not shame easily.) he said, "it couldn't hurt." true that. so i put down my knitting, rummaged through the laundry pile, and found my "property of steelers football" hoodie. i changed into black leggings. i did not put on my gold fleece slipper-socks with the black padding on the bottom, nor did i change into black underwear. those might have gotten us that extra couple of points. but i didn't. i came back upstairs and watched the game.
now, in the subsequent moments, ben and the offense were amazing. we cruised down the field like we were plowing over last year's crop. we made a touchdown. we actually took the lead: 29-28. i tugged on my hoodie and said to smartboy, "see? it matters!"
not the months of daily practices. not the playbooks or the coaching. no. it was me in my hoodie.
then it happened. hines' touchdown was disqualified because some ref decided that #61 had been holding, way back behind the goal line on the other side of the field, where nothing would have mattered anyway. and #61 was on the freaking ground when the flag was down, touching no one. but there were bad calls last night all over the place, so it didn't surprise me.
what saddened me, though, is that we never recovered. we couldn't pull ahead enough to make up for my not wearing my gear during the first half or for not completing my ensemble with socks and underwear to match. i was a bad fan. we lost by two very painful-to-watch points.
what's also sad is that i had planned out my blog post about our win while we had that lead. it was very clever, of course, all about how troy polamalu and i have this cosmic connection, that despite his wife's being a stunning beauty and his being a devoted husband and all-around wonderful guy, i could mystically connect to him like mike teevee through willy wonka's tv transmission and help him bring glory to his team.
alas, it was not to be. i bet his wife wasn't wearing her steelers gear.