3/28/13
In truth, it was the first time I’d ever truly fell in love with a team. I thought it was the team that would make me forget about all the other teams I'd had before. This team was going to make me happy for the rest of my life. I even wrote blog posts about this team.
They say it hurts the most the first time, but I never thought it would hurt this much.
The feeling you get watching your top ranked dream team fall to a 9-seed in the second round is most closely comparable to getting broken up with. You’re heart is broken and you’re left with so many questions. What about all the time we spent together? What about our hopes, our dreams? We were going to change the world…everything was going so well, and now this?
It was like someone had taken my most precious jewel. They stole it right out of my clutches and I was helpless to stop them. All one can do in that situation is watch on as your heroic Zags fail in the face of adversity.
I now envy other sports fans for having hardened hearts. They’ve seen this kind of hurt before. Not to say it’s less painful, but I imagine they know what kind of comforts get you through hard times such as these.
There now lies a vacant, gaping cavity where my heart used to be, I need to fill it with a new team, perhaps I’ll slut around the sweet sixteen and find a fling that will last me through this madness.
No, I can't be so foolish. I just don’t have it in me to love again. My time has come to hermit back from society’s traditional sports to the outlying fringe niches of frisbee and climbing until warm time comes and water will wash off my sorrows. Goodbye cruel traditional sports world, you will never have my heart again…maybe next year though if we get ranked No. 1.
Hug it out buddy.