Biological Fanny Pack: It Must Have Been Love, But It's OOOOOVER NOOOOOW

Monday, January 12, 2009

It Must Have Been Love, But It's OOOOOVER NOOOOOW

I am an avid supporter of the New York Giants. I watch every game and I follow them during the off season. Still, I'm not one of those fans you'll find weeping in his seat as people file out of the stadium after a loss.

(Getty Images: Just for the hell of it.)

Since I'm a grown man (allegedly) rooting for a bunch of other grown men (again, allegedly) who couldn't give less of a shit about what happens in my life, I try to keep losses in perspective. Sure, it sucks to invest time in something that ultimately winds up being a disappointment, but what else are you going to do on a Sunday, laundry?

Yet no matter how hard I try to let losses roll off my back, sometimes a defeat comes around that gets under my skin and won't leave. A defeat so putrid, so rancid, so completely and utterly disgusting that it makes Whoopi Goldberg look like Halle Berry in comparison (topical!). Yesterday's embarrassment against the Eagles was one such defeat.

But I'm not sad. I don't want to lie in bed all day crying and eating chocolates.

No, it's more of a, how should I say this? Ah yes, that's right, a furious rage. I cannot stand losing to a team from Philadelphia. The only city that gives Boston a run for its money in terms of the sheer douchebaggery of its fans is Philadelphia, and the Giants just lost to them in heartbreaking fashion, ending a season with Super Bowl aspirations prematurely.

This angers me.

In fact, it angers me so much that I want to just smash something. Anything. Actually, check that. I don't want to smash just anything. I want to smash something big, something that represents a challenge. Something that I can show who the fucking boss is.

But where to find something that presents enough of a challenge for it to truly be a satisfying physical outpouring of furious rage?

Ahh, I know.