Negative Rooting, Like Crime, Doesn’t Pay

It was a good idea at the time. Too bad it didn’t work.

If you’ve ever been here (this blog) before, you know I am a raving 49er Fan, so why did I throw a playoff game party? And even worse than that… we rooted for the Green Bay Packers. It made me feel trashy and disloyal.

Have I lost my mind?  I know, it goes against my cheese-head hating self, but the bottom line is – we didn’t want the Seahawks going to the Super Bowl. Those guys are too damn cocky. They are a helluva good team and everyone knows it. They don’t need to be cocky. But yet, they are.

It was a good plan, a good party & fun with family. I’m very happy I did not bet on that game.  Those Seahawks will be going to the super bowl again.  And there is nothing you or I can do about it.

Dirty Look
Say It Isn’t So!!

I sure was hoping that the Colts could keep ahead of the Patriots, for the game. Coach for the Patriots must have gotten his team worked up at half time. I would suspect a powerful and moving pep-talk or something, however, that’s old school now. The new school is tampering. Tampering with scholarships, favors, yada-yada. And now on the Fox News I find out someone is tampering with the balls.  Just removing some air from the footballs – enough to make the balls more supple, allegedly, this makes the throwing and receiving of the ball easier.  Of course, this completely screws the team’s place kicker & punter – because deflated balls have no lift.

Trust me on that.

What I don’t understand is – why these playoff balls aren’t kept away from both teams by the NFL.  The balls, picked out by each team, get weighed and measured by officials, then they are given to the Ball Boys (who, BTW, work for the Stadium). That is a lot of opportunity for evil forces to tamper with the balls before the game. Who “ball sits” during the game and at half-time? Do they stay with the ball boys, referees, team staff?  This Enquiring mind wants to know.

Wouldn’t there be a chance that the balls could get mixed up? And the Colts would get a flattish* ball?  Wait a minute – wasn’t there a messed up Field Goal attempt by the Colts?  Hmmm.  And why are teams allowed to manage their own balls?  Shouldn’t this be done by the NFL, to prevent just this sort of thing from happening?  Sheesh.

The Pat’s won the AFC championship and they are going to the Super Bowl. Too bad the only questions reporters are asking, have to do with what they are calling Deflate-Gate.

Personally, I am suspicious that the game balls were tested after the game. It doesn’t sound like a normal procedure to me. So… balls were inspected after the football game was over. On whose request? Someone knew something fishy was going on. Somebody tattled. Vows to “get to the bottom of this” are made. Songs are being written using “who let the air out?” in the lyrics, replacing “dogs”.

It reminds me of High School.


* flattish [flat esh]; adv. somewhat flat  [no lie, this definition is in the Webster’s Dictionary.  Hee Hee.

That Strange Lady Next Door


Topic #36: Describe yourself through your neighbor’s eyes.

The first time I saw her, she waved at me over the back fence. “Howdy neighbor!”,  she called out. Howdy?  Is she for real?

Two months later I had a visit from the FBI.  An Agent was doing an investigation. About her. He said it was routine, but some of the questions they asked me were disturbing.

“Have you noticed any suspicious activity next door?”

“Well,” I told them, “She is up at 3:00 am working on a laptop. She drives off around 4:30am. Once in a while she leaves the house when I am just going to bed,  at 1:30am. She keeps pretty weird hours for a computer tech.”

The agent scribbled notes in a little notebook. “Has she said much to you about her job?”

“No. But I hear things when she’s talking on her phone that has the head-set, while she does yard work.”

“What kind of things do you hear?” The agent asked, his notebook open and pencil at the ready.

“Oh, once I heard her say,  ‘Are you sure you want me to kill them?’  – that scared me a little.”

“Anything else?”  Agent FBI didn’t even flinch at my answer. He is either professional, or deaf.

“I have heard her talk about weather problems like cyclones and windstorms, logging into machines, trying out chemical agents and RDD’s”

“Have you observed any unusual behavior?”

“Yeah,  she talks to her roses like they are actually listening to her and answering her. She makes horrible threats to the weeds. She makes jokes about terrorists. Do you think she is dangerous?”

The agent did not acknowledge my question. He was too busy scribbling.

“Are you going to arrest her for something?” I asked.

“Thank you for your cooperation, and your time.”  Mr. Agent shook my hand in that dismissing way they have.

“That’s it?”  I asked. “Are you sure there isn’t information I need to know, since I live next door to a possible terrorist?!”

“Mr. Neighbor,” Agent FBI smiled. ” Unless you are a weed you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Still, I think I will be keeping a closer eye on the lady next door…