Skip to main content

The Good (Sports) Wife

Late Night in the Phog (the first practice of the season)
I am becoming less and less of a sports fan in my older age, a fact my spouse bemoans because I actually know quite a bit about sports...for a girl. But, there's just so much of it, you know? I'd rather do just about anything but sit through a 3-1/2 hour game on a hard seat. Still, in appreciation for the way he indulged my cultural desires (art galleries, museums, shopping) on our recent vacation, I agreed to attend not one, but two, athletic events this weekend. The first was, technically, a basketball scrimmage. But, in this town, where college basketball is a communal addiction for which no 12-step program dare be invented, it was a sold-out, epic event. People had been waiting in line, literally, for two days to attend the glorified practice. Fortunately, our friends had reserved seats and, since their kids dropped out at the last minute, they invited us to join them. Turns out, the tickets were hotter than expected since the temperature inside the Fieldhouse was, at least, 90 degrees. I'm embarrassed to say, I left early (the prelim stuff took hours; I was drenched in sweat) and missed a sneak peak at the predicted #1 NBA draft pick next year...but stayed long enough to mark "Late Night" off my bucket list.
Our makeshift fans, compliments of my resourceful husband.
A cold front moved through overnight leaving it nice and cool for my return to Memorial Stadium after a 5-year hiatus.  (The hubs lost his season ticket buddy this year, so I agreed to accompany him to all home games which, in hindsight, may have been a regrettable over-reaction.) We walked to the stadium and enjoyed one quarter of great playing by the home team until they fell apart (as the home team is wont to do) in the last three quarters.
Good seats, anyway.
As we trudged home, disgusted - once again - with the flailing football program but eternally optimistic about basketball, I was reminded how good it feels to compromise in a relationship... once in a while. When the temperature dips below 30, I make no guarantees of making it to the fourth quarter.


jp said…
Miss your posts, hope all is well with you and your family!
Cathy Hamilton said…
Thanks, jp. I'm back at it again.

Popular posts from this blog

I'll be back after these messages

Boy, I thought I'd never see the old blog again after the whirlwind of life I've had - and am still having - this fall.  Thanks for not giving up on me.
First, the wedding in late October came off with only one hitch. (Don't get me started on over-extended wedding planners.) I ended up cobbling an outfit together from Chico's in taupe (my spin on the mother-of-the-groom mandate: Wear beige and keep your mouth shut), threw on a bunch of pearls and an autumnal pashmina, and did my own hair. Boom! Done. The beautiful Sunday evening wedding in the country culminated a week-long string of activities I have come to call Burning Man East due to the predominance of bonfires at various celebrations. Big fun, big exhaustion.
Three days after the newlyweds returned to Brooklyn, my son summoned the hubs to Game 5 of the World Series in Queens (in which the home team was playing the Mets.) The kid flew his old man to NYC,  bought tickets for themselves and two others, and put him u…

Sabi: Helping your medicine cabinet look hip

I've always said that the companies who figure out how to make aging cool will win baby boomers' hearts in the end (or, better yet, a decade or two before the end.) The stakes are high. There are 78 million of us and gazillions of dollars to be made on our inevitable decline. Enter Sabi. With a mission " create products that are intuitively and beautifully designed in order to infuse life’s daily rituals with delight," Sabi boasts that their products "marry superb functionality, simplicity, and aesthetics to make the most mundane to-dos – from taking your daily vitamins to taking out the trash – more enjoyable." I received this bevy of review samples in the mail yesterday: pill folio (aka: 'pill organizer'), dispenser, chopper, crusher and holster. I have to admit, I like the look - sleek, simple and utilitarian....although two of my friends have said they'd need 3 pill folios to hold all their supplements. (Sigh.) Still, I give it two…

Gray hair: A luxury anyone can afford.

I got one of those back-handed compliments on my gray hair from a stranger today: "I wish I could do it. But, I'm afraid of looking old....oh, gawd....but YOURS looks great... really!!" 
    No harm, no foul. It's happened before.
    Charla Krupp, author of "How Not to Look Old," once said, "it's such a luxury to be able to go gray. Because it is an aging look, and it means that you don't care about people knowing your age." 
    She was probably right. Thankfully, I've never been shy about stating my age - it's 56, for the record - or asking others their number, especially when playing 'Who do you know?' The gentler, albeit sneakier, way is asking the year they graduated high school, but sometimes I forget and just blurt it out, often taking people aback.
      But, does it bother me? The looking older part, I mean?
      No. But, admittedly, I'm married. I'm not in the meat market, the job market, or any othe…