Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Put me in coach

I’m all about hiding my Midwestern roots and schooling in Kansas not because I am ashamed about being raised without running water or electricity, but because if I’m told “you’re not in Kansas anymore” one more fucking time, I will rip that person’s arm off! Well my Alma matter, Kansas State, came in town to play in the men’s basketball showcase at Madison Square Garden (aka the Garden), and I couldn’t resist picking up tickets. Okay, my college pride is enough for me to root for sports that I don’t particularly follow, like men’s basketball or women’s equestrian (yeah, don’t get me started…it is not even a fucking sport, why couldn’t we have something like um I don’t know, normal like soccer or swimming, stupid horses).

Anyway, I headed two blocks over after work to join up with the KSU Alumni bar pre-party. Yeah, I work a block from the Garden, pretty sweet. Well the pre-party would be better described as random old KSU grads in sweat shirts and mom jeans. Seriously, there were only a handful of us under the age of 35. Anyway, one of the big surprises was Beta Ben! Yeah he is the picture you would see when you look up supreme douche-bag in the dictionary. Any time a guy tells me he is a Beta, I groan thinking about Beta Ben. Honestly, one of the guys I hang with at watch parties is a Beta, and he says everyone does that groan thing. My freshman year in college, I was set up with BB for a Halloween date party. Five minutes into the night, I thought “what the hell….kill me now!” Well sure enough, I am over drinking with Bree, Marshall, his older brother, and some other Garden City guy, when Beta guy runs up to me and points out Beta Ben in the corner. We both start laughing (while pointing), and I now wonder if we just set BB’s self esteem (cockiness) back about a notch.

After a good solid 90 minutes of drinking semi-expensive beer at the bar, the crowd headed over to the Garden. Bree and I scored front row court level tickets for $30 which basically gave us access to the really expensive seats. After about an hour (and several beers later), we made nice with the usher (aka lonely old man) and hopped down to the $80 seats. Yeah our jump put us five rows from the edge of the court (end court view).

Anyway, in anticipation towards being “that girl” and possibly getting on TV, I made two large signs to display at the game. One said “Huggie Who?” and the other said “thanks for sticking with us boys” and had all of the recruit’s numbers on it. Quick note in case you don’t follow college basketball (cannot blame you), our head coach (Bob Huggins) convinced some of the top (if not top like Michael Beasley and Bill Walker) recruits to commit to us. He then skipped town after one season to coach at his Alma matter West Virginia. Well the recruits obviously came to the school for the coach and not the glamorous lifestyle beheld in the middle-of-nowhere Kansas. Therefore, we risked loosing what could be our first tourney team in um decades. Thankfully they opted to stay put and play with us, probably more so since they would have to sit out the year if they transferred to another program. Well Bree and I would stand up every time out and wave our signs for the cameras. Only when the game was in its fourth quarter (and we were on our tenth beers) did the camera guy point to us and tell us to shake it for the camera. Of course we were wasted by then and probably did not give the greatest impression of KSU fans. Plus I held the sign up upside down by accident at one point.

We also didn’t help boost the “good fan” image while heckling the Notre Dame fans sitting in front of us. They were harmless old men, and one tried to set us up with his son. I’m sure they had enough of us when we started zealously yelling chants and subsequently spilling precious beer on them. Seriously, I don’t sing, but as proof of how much we drank, Bree and I were convinced to stand up and shout out the fight ourselves!

After the game we headed down to Doc’s to – you guessed it – drink more! You know you are not operating in a sober mind when you A) head down to a bar that is notorious for getting you even drunker on even shittier beer and B) go there with your ex-boyfriend….and his brother! Yeah, talk about bad ideas since the last time I went to Doc’s, I kissed the drummer of this same guy’s band! Actually it was a lot less awkward than I anticipated. As proof, here is a snippet of our conversation:
Marshall: Is that a new K-State shirt?
Me: Yeah, my friend got it for me
Marshall: (interrupting) wait didn’t I get you one?
Me: Oh…yeah, but I don’t wear it anymore
Marshall: Oh
Me: anyway, he bought it in his size and I cut it all up and sewed it to fit me
Marshall: (looking at my seams), I could have done it MUCH better
Me: well that is because you have a vagina
Marshall: (turning to brother) you can see why we didn’t work out
Brother: actually, I think she has you nailed.
Ah ha ha ha!


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