There were times I could identify what was on the screen before entering the room. Not always from the announcers' voices, but from TBG's moans, groans, and cheers of delight. Watching and re-watching and re-re-re-re-watching certain sporting events made him inordinately happy.
I didn't really understand it until now. But I spent the better part of last night watching and re-watching the Knicks come from behind, erase a 29 point deficit, and triumph with 30 seconds of exceptional basketball to end the game. It made me inordinately happy.
This morning I watched rabid Knicks fan Stephen A Smith tear up recounting his experience on his couch with his kids. I never watch him willingly; today I awaited him anxiously. Michael Wilbon called it the most epic collapse he'd ever seen in a championship series, and I enjoyed ever schadenfreud laden moment.
I watched those last 30 seconds again and again and again all day long. TBG tried to find something else to watch and I whined until he relented. The last time I could name more than one player on the Knicks was 1970. Listening to Let's Go Knicks chanted with the MSG organ's encouragement brought the fervor of those days right back.
Sister texted me her memories, including specific point totals and players' actions. She'll happily engage in a Was Game 5 or Game 6 more impressive conversation at the drop of a hat. She doesn't recognize this new game, calling it football with jumping. I suppose that's why she gave up and slept through the second half, a fact I plan to use when she goes on too long about her long ago devotion to the team.
And now it's time to watch the hockey finals. I can't believe I'm watching and enjoying hockey. As my life continues to expand in unexpected ways, it's nice to find one that one of those ways amuses me.
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I KNOW THE FONT IS TOO SMALL......