I really never watch sports. I don’t watch because not watching has been my truest rebellion. If you grew up in the Tracy household, trust me, you’d have to find your own ways of being subversive, and besides being a monster bitch, I also rejected the culture of sports. Anyway, my family’s all New England fans, and we all know what they’re like.
When I was a kid, I was the Mets to their Red Sox. These are people who wept openly when the Sox won the World Series and brought Red Sox paraphernalia to my memere’s grave (may she rest in peace). Jimmy memorized baseball cards when we were kids, for fun, and, as a tiny man, played football at Columbus (JV, lezbe honest), and is the kind of person who will watch pool if it’s on. Pool is a sport that people watch if they are crazy.
I enjoy a Marlins World Series win as much as the biggest fan, and this week, for some reason, I felt compelled to watch the Heat. I think it was because I knew we’d win, somewhere inside, I just knew. I joked on Facebook that we won because I watched. Then I watched again, and joked again, you get the picture, but last night, as I watched the Bulls stay ahead as the time quickly dwindled away, I was like, Shit. I have to take credit for a loss now, too? That’s no fun. We have to win. And then we did, and so, you’re welcome.
The other night we were sitting in front of the game, and my friend mentioned that she thought that Chalmers looked like a lesbian. This is very funny. But Nico, my other buddy said, No! He looks like Tia and Tamera! Mowry, you know, from Sister, Sister? And damn was she right. Look at that picture up there. Brilliant.
We’ll be live blogging the NBA Finals on THL, both ignoramuses, like myself, and sports psychos like my brother. This is so that you can experience, as we’re watching, all the dumb and insightful comments we have inside. Mostly, I’ll be talking about how cute Derrick Rose is and how I miss looking at him (call me, Derrick, please!).