John's hockey league is in playoffs right now. During the month of March, a league that is usually filled with guys who warm up by lifting a few beers before games becomes very fierce. All of a sudden, a team that has barely won a game all season has a shot. Isn't that the beauty of playoffs?
The last two games being the pressure-filled parties they have been, I wanted to go and watch. Before the first game last Thursday I told John that I would be there to cheer him on. He seemed reluctant and I asked him why.
"Well cause, Babe. You're kind of bad luck."
Which, really, is complete bullshit, because the one time I've gone to watch this year, they won. I figure he just didn't want me to cramp his style in front of his friends. I wasn't worried and decided to stay home and catch up on Cougar Town.
But, he did it to me again this Sunday! I was willing to get up on my one sleep-in day to call his name from the stands. Okay, I wouldn't actually do that, but I would still be there. Nope, he didn't want to choke with so much on the line. Again, fine, I slept until 10:00 am and asked him to bring me back some coffee.
Earlier today, he told me that he wouldn't mind if I came, explaining this could be their last game and he was okay with me tagging along. Really, I think he wanted someone to drive the team home should they win.
"Call Lucy!" he said. "We're playing Dave's team. She'll come and watch too!"
So I did. I rang up the lovely Lucy and asked if she would like to come and join me.
"God no!" She yelled into the phone. "Why would I do that? I don't want to sit in a freezing cold arena when I've got a perfectly good hot tub here? In fact, you should come here and sit in it with me!!"
That girl. I don't know if it's the British in her, but she's got some wicked ideas.
"Now you're talking!" I replied. "See you at 8pm!"
So, I kind of got a better offer.
I think I win.