Mormon Conversations With Whoorl

Did anyone see my Jayhawks stomp the Kentucky Wildcats and the Niagara something-or-others this weekend? As my friend and former co-worker Joe would say, “FREAK! Those games were freaking awesome!”

Joe is Mormon and doesn’t speak any type of profanity, so when he gets really riled up or stressed out, he just yells “FREAK! FREAK!” over and over until happiness washes back over his soul. Joe is super easy-going and couldn’t care less if I happen to let a couple of nasty words spill forth, but out of respect to him, I try to keep my trucker’s mouth on the down low.

This usually does not work well. The pressure, people. The pressure of pleasant syntax crushes me every damn time.

An example:

Joe: That referee was pretty lame.

Whoorl: Dude, what a diii…thering idiot.

Joe: Did you try that new restaurant I was telling you about?

Whoorl: Oh my Gah…lly! That place was so good! But the service sucked…(stopping myself from adding “donkey balls” to the end of the phrase and now questioning the word “sucked”. “Fuck, did I just say sucked?”, repeats in my head, throwing me off. I have officially entered crisis mode.)

Joe: (oblivious to my internal crisis) Yep, my waiter wasn’t that great. He had a huge pink mohawk.

Whoorl: Oh my God, that was my waiter! Uh, I mean, oh my gah…shit…I mean shoot. SHIT! JESUS CHRIST JOE I CAN’T DO THIS!

Joe: Whoah, dude. Take it easy.

Whoorl: Sorry.

Must Focus

Yet another perk of a SAHM- watching every single tourney game on my DIRECTV March Madness package.

In preparation for tonight’s main event, I must keep my focus on basketball. Thus, I leave you with a short prayer sent to me by my Jayhawk partner-in-crime, Kimmer.

Our Father, who art in Lawrence,

Hallowed be thy Game.

Thy tourney come,

Thy championship will be done, In Atlanta as it is in Allen Field House.

Give us this day our deserved victories.

And forgive us our turnovers,

As we forgive Roy who double-crossed against us.

And lead us not into defeat,

But deliver us from East Coast bias,

For Kansas is the basketball kingdom,

And the tradition,

And the glory,

For ever and ever.

Amen.

Let The Games Begin

I don’t need to go into detail regarding my love for the NCAA Tourney again. Um yeah HELLO, I’m a Jayhawk. But, for the love of Christo, please don’t let my boys fuck it all up in the first round. Again. For the third time.

In the meantime, I’ll just revel in our sweet overtime win against that annoying ugly orange team yesterday.

Congrats to the Big 12 Tournament Champions (again) and the #1 seed - West Division.

Beak ‘em Hawks!

photo by Jeff and Laura Jacobsen

Rock Chalk Jayhawk

Congrats to the 2006 Big 12 Tournament Champions!

March Madness

**DISCLAIMER - If you aren’t interested in the upcoming college basketball slice of heaven, or sports in general, please move along. Also, you SUCK and should get your ass kicked.**

**DISCLAIMER #2 - I might be experiencing extremely elevated pregnancy hormones at the moment.**

If you are a regular reader of this blog, you already know I love sports. But did you know it’s the one thing that causes me to be completely discriminatory and bitchy? Oh yeah. When I receive comments such as, “Gee, you and my husband would get along famously because I just don’t get the whole sports thing!” I don’t laugh and shrug my shoulders. I yell profanities at my computer and make fun of you for at least 5 minutes with my husband.

But really, I’m a nice girl! Don’t leave! You’re leaving aren’t you? Well, fuck you. I mean, I like your hair! It’s the pregnancy hormones, I swear!

Back to my point- I can feel it. The anticipation building in my stomach for the past few days (whoorlito, is that you?). And in less than 5 hours, I will have my beloved NCAA tourney bracket to study and covet for the next month. I would frame it, like the amazing work of art it is, but no golden-gilded frame could do it justice. March Madness is immeasurably wonderful in my book. The close games, the overtime, the school spirit, I love it all. Even Dick Vitale’s enthusiastic voice makes a regular appearance in my dreams. This is in contrast to the dream I had last night in which my co-worker sold me into white slavery. We clearly need to have a “chat” when I see him next week. Ahem.

It really is no wonder that my closest girlfriends love college basketball and sports in general. I don’t think I could carry on conversations with people during March that didn’t include statements like “Did you see the winning three-point shot last night? DAMN!” These ladies are crucial to my sanity considering I live in Southern California, the land of non-sports fans. Case in Point- a certain anonymous person with the initials SAJ* (oops, is that too much information?) made an unannounced visit to my home during the Super Bowl. The SUPER BOWL, people. That is utter blasphemy where I come from, but hey, it’s Southern California. It’s all about oceans and beaches and natural beauty. The Super Bowl? What’s that?

It’s hard to describe my feelings regarding the differences between sports fans and non-sports fans. I guess it rivals the whole Mac/PC issue- we can all live in harmony, but do we really understand each other? I think not. I’ve attempted to determine the major reasons why people gravitate towards sports, and have come up with my foolproof checklist. If all three describe you and you still hate sports, you are an alien mutation (and I would like to know what “major university” you attended).

1) Grew up in the South
2) Raised by sports fans
3) Attended a major university with a good sports program

Now that I have effectively alienated 80% of my readers, I feel comfortable enjoying the rest my Sunday. It’s time for the Duke/Boston College ACC Championship followed by my Alma Mater and Texas fighting it out in the Big 12 Championship. Go Jayhawks!

*SAJ- I forgive you only because you were raised in California and I got to see Baby Bug. ;)

**I would like to point out for the record; I am in no way a tomboy. I could literally talk about lip gloss for hours- right, Stacy? It IS possible to love purses, cosmetics, shoes AND sports.

Hook ‘em Horns

Normally, I’m not a Texas football fan (Go Sooners!), but I am a huge supporter of two things:

1) The Big 12
2) Putting an end to the ridiculously long winning streak of USC’s football program. Hey, I’m sorry, but I can’t stand being a Big 12er in the land of Cardinal and Gold.

D and I watched the game at my cousin’s house, who happens to be a UT Law School alum. He and his wife have a 7-month-old baby girl who happened to be sleeping soundly in the room right below us. Obviously, the cardinal rule is DON’T WAKE THE BABY UP, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE. And if you do, YOU CAN NEVER COME BACK TO THIS HOUSE, ASSHOLE. Shit, the pressure! So when Vince Young ran in the winning touchdown on 4th down, the four of us looked like we had just won the $500,000,000 lottery at a freakish mime convention. Never have I seen four people produce such energy without making so much as a peep.

Man, we are baby pros already.

Fantasy Island

It is with deep sorrow that I announce the Long Duk Dongers were defeated by the Meatloaf Militia in the Fantasy Football Championship Playoff this evening.

The Dongers fought hard, but luck was not on their side today.

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