Radical Transparency

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November 11, 2008

The Cowboys

A bit of a silly conversation started on Ta-Nehisi Coates's blog the other day when he mentioned the fact that he's a Dallas Cowboys fan.

I commented, asking for an explanation, and, today, he responded, sparking a beauty of a comment thread.

After trying to imagine growing up without lovable home teams and reading TNC's explanation, I respect his love for the Cowboys.  I don't like it.  But I'm ok with it.  I think it's real, and I think real love for a team is something to celebrate.

Which reminds me of something one of my cousins said as we wandered around the ballpark before going in for Game 4 of the World Series.

Everyone was wearing red and chanting and singing for the Phils, and one of us noted the fact that it couldn't possibly be like it was in Philly in Tampa Bay.  Fans were probably way into it, but some of those fans were Phils fans, and that makes for a totally different dynamic.  There's tension there.  Home vs. Away.  Red vs. Blue.

In Philly there wasn't tension.  We were all Home, all Red, all Good Guys.  No Bad Guys would have come close to that pregame party.

And then came the observation.

We shouldn't be celebrating our exclusivity.  We should love the fact that there's no anger in the pregame crowd, but we should welcome Tampa Bay fans.  We should be excited to have rival fans in the house.  We should party together before the game.  We should make fun of each other during the game.  And we should party together again after the game.

We should be able to celebrate our losses as wins for other fans.

And that's a pretty powerful thought.  Mature.  Idealistic.  Symbolic of way more than professional sports.  And powerful.

Not an easy one to put into practice, however.  Certainly not in Philadelphia.  And certainly not when it pertains to the Dallas Cowboys.  But worth keeping in mind regardless.

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October 28, 2008

Like Internet Dating, Only Better

Jenny the Bloggess is hilarious and probably totally ridiculously gorgeous in real life, so my plan is sweep her off her feet with love comments and convince her to marry me.

I made my first attempt last Thursday when she posted a transcribed conversation in which her husband called her the world's greatest grampa (with an m) and refused to buy her a new curly straw...

Please dump Victor and marry me. I'll give you hats and straws and burritos AND zebra stripe gum. If you're not sick of zebra stripe gum, of course, which I guess you would be if you smell it all day long. But that would imply that you smell your feet all day long, which I don't mean to imply, because I'm pretty sure you'd never do anything weird like that. Though it isn't weird if you do it, because I can imagine that if my feet smelled as good as yours, I might strategically slip out of my shoes and let the zebra smells waft more often. But I wouldn't really know how these things work because my feet smell like feet (I think), and I don't even know what zebra stripe gum is. Which I should never have admitted because if my friend Danny is right that he'll never marry a girl that's never heard of A Tribe Called Quest, then there's no way you'll marry a guy that's never heard of what's probably the best gum ever invented. Man. Bummer. Tell Victor he wins for today. But I'll try again…

No response.  Yet.  Which is ok.  I don't expect one.  Yet. 

I will continue commenting.  And hoping and dreaming.

Her most recent post is about ground squirrels and spelling mistakes, however.  Not the most romantic subject.  Which makes it tough to comment effectively. Which is a worry.  But I realize that these things take patience.  So I'm going to go to sleep and think about it and see how I feel in the morning.
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