Spandex and a Couple of Kickoffs

Awkward attire
It may be inevitable that at some point in your life as a parent, you realize that you are, at some level, an embarrassment to one or more of your children. For whatever reason, I hadn't ever seen myself that way. I knew that they (and their friends) thought I was kind of strange for various reasons (some justified, some not so much), but I also believed I was seen as kind of cool (for a parent) and somewhat amusing - or scary, depending on their experience(s) with me. Anyhow, my view of myself through my children's eyes changed slightly last weekend when I came home from a bike ride. Carrie had a group of friends over for her birthday, and they were watching a movie in the living room when I came in, and since I was coming back from a bike ride, I was wearing bike shorts, which are made of - as you may or may not be aware - 87% nylon and 13% lycra/spandex. So what's the problem, you ask? Apparently, according to at least one of her friends, it's "awkward" when someone's dad comes into the house (which he owns, I might mention, and which the aforementioned friend was visiting as a guest who was only there because of the gracious nature of the owner of the house, which in this case, was and is me) wearing spandex. Carrie thought the whole thing was mildly amusing, because she's so used to seeing her parents attired in various types of exercise garb that she doesn't think anything about it. I, however, am deeply scarred by this callous comment, and I'm not sure if I'll ever recover my lost self-esteem. O woeful day, callooh, callay.

Summer season kickoff
We kicked off our latest TNT season this Saturday, and as always it was highly inspirational. It's amazing to hear people's stories and to see so many who are willing to commit to raising funds that go towards eliminating blood cancers. For the next few months, I'll be helping to coach a group of runners and walkers as they prepare for marathons (or half-marathons) in Nashville, San Diego, and Seattle.

Speaking of kickoffs
There were a couple of minutes, there, when I actually thought the impossible, the inconceivable, the absolutely incomprehensible was going to happen. The Cardinals had the lead, momentum was on their side, and all they had to do was keep the Steelers from moving the ball within field goal range. And then it all fell apart. Hopes were dashed, dreams deferred, and once again, I was left shaking my head in disappointment. Every year since the Cardinals moved to Arizona, I've tried to root for them - partly because of the whole regional thing and partly because their games often superseded the national game of interest being shown on Sunday afternoons - and there's not much worse than watching two 5-10 teams going through the motions in their final game of the season. So I'm not a rabid fan, but I've still suffered through Buddy Ryan and Joe Bugel, Emmit Smith creaking through his twilight years, Jake the Snake tossing yet another bone-headed interception, that epic collapse against the Bears on Monday Night ("they are who we thought they were!"), and all the other times when I was left shaking my head in disappointment. And then, somehow, magically, miraculously, the team manages to make it to the Super Bowl, where they fight back from a 13-point deficit in the fourth quarter and take the lead - but with too much time left on the clock. As soon as Larry Fitzgerald broke into the clear for that final touchdown, even while I was cheering and yelling, I was also thinking, "Oh no." If only he could have run around for another couple of minutes before diving across the goal line while the final seconds ticked off the clock. If only the blitz had arrived a split second earlier. If only the defensive back hadn't slipped. If only Santonio Holmes hadn't been able to tap his right toe down. If only… Crud.

Sorry about that - it's more depressing than mildly amusing - but it's all I've got. So until next time, may your attire be appropriate at all times and in all situations, may your causes be furthered, and may the team you're rooting for finish with a final flourish.