To Bobble-head or not to Bobble-head

My friend Sarah invited me to the Giants/Mets game, knowing that I am a Mets fan, and also in a thinly veiled attempt to get me to cheer up after my latest relationship blunder.  My intern told me that this Saturday was Tim Lincecum Bobblehead night, quite the hot commodity.  I told Sarah I wasn’t sure because my “boyfriend” might be coming up here to break up.  Did those words just come out of my mouth?  How is that even for real?  I would pass up a great baseball game, a night of Bobbleheads and beer and if I’m lucky, garlic fries, for a potential sob-fest over a relationship that might end in runny mascara and a giant heaping pile of tissue paper.  It’s like I don’t even know myself.

I started to think about the things I have given up FOR sports.  The very first thing that comes to mind is my Spring Break Junior year of college.  University of Maryland was playing in the NCAA tournament for Men’s Basketball.  We were doing pretty well.  I went to the early round games that were held in DC.  A couple months earlier, I made plans to go on a “real” spring break in Mexico.  You know, the kind with lots of beer and laying out in the sun and beaches and weird promo companies giving away tee shirts and such.  I had never taken a trip, just me and my girlfriends.  I was looking forward to it.  But then the terps made it to the final four.  I had a chance to go.  I emptied my bank account to pay for game and plane tickets and went, all alone.  I attended the game by myself and had a blast.  Met up with some people in Atlanta and the Terps won.  Best decision ever.  I think one of the girls got herpes over spring break anyways.

Another thing that comes to mind is the Giants/Mets game I went to in 2007.  As a graduation gift, I got REALLY good seats to the Mets/Giants game here in SF.  The night before was my last law school final exam.  We all went out to this bar and got completely hammered.  I think I initiated a “shot contest”.  I managed to injure myself and then pass out at home.  The next morning, I felt like puking.  But I got up, threw on my Mets hat and went to the game, where I felt like puking the whole time.  Best game ever.

There are plenty more where that came from.  So I guess my life has been a give and take when it comes to sports.  Maybe it won’t be so bad if I stay here and work on my relationship.  Maybe it also won’t be so bad to go to the game in order to really let go of something that shouldn’t be held on to.  I’m just wondering which I’ll regret NOT doing more. 

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