The New England Patriots are dirty rotten cheaters. There, we weighed in. But I (reluctantly) want them to win the Super Bowl because Pete Carroll is both Pete and Carroll. This sets up an emotional dichotomy. I like to root for the good guy. This Super Bowl is one good guy short.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been on the horns of a dilemma.
It’s true. Deflate-Gate almost makes me want to switch allegiances. But this is nothing new. There have been lots of “Gates” that have baffled me.
Tonya Harding had one chance to become an Olympic medalist. The only American standing in her way was Nancy Kerrigan. Harding’s husband, Jeff Gilgooglyeyes, hatched a plot. Did Tonya know about it? Did she have a hand in planning it? Did she have the talent to medal even without the presence of the strangely off-putting Kerrigan?
My wife got mad at me the other day. Of course there was no good reason for it. Sainted beyond what is required for canonization, I am every woman’s dream as a husband. A neighbor (pictured below) asked for a cup of sugar and a neck rub. I was accommodating the poor, sore girl. I was completely flabbergasted as to why the wife would be upset. “Berate-Gate.”
Captain Stubing drove the boat. Isaac Washington served the drinks. Dr. Bricker gave out Dramamine and slept with more girls than his looks would have justified. Julie McCoy was the cute cruise director. What purpose did Gopher serve? “First Mate-Gate.”
Happiness is good. Joy is even better. But what about when the amount of joy seems out of whack to what is actually going on? This phenomena recently occurred in Corvallis when Oregon State hired a new caretaker for their abysmal football program. “Elate-Gate.”
What about a fan base so pretentious as to define the very term “putting on airs”? This malady starts just east of Indiana and abruptly stops at the Pennsylvania border.
Top photo by heavy.com