The Washington State Cougars:  Are you sure you still belong in Division 1 Football?

This blog is going be just as random and amateurish as the game I witnessed last night.  I offer my sincere apologies for thinking my alma mater would show up.   Actually, they did arrive exactly the way I never wished to imagine…..wearing colors representing losers. I’m supposed to be a semi-educated man.  Where is my brain when I need it the most, and why do I have any expectations for this program?

As the great Nancy Kerrigan stated, “why why why?”, I have to admit those words came to mind as I watched opening college football amateur hour last night.  WSU.  Need I write more?

I should have titled this “Set Low Expectations”  That way no one gets hurt.  “Sir, put the remote control and your bat down and step away from the T.V.”.

Last night, my wife and I were driving back to Seattle feeling somewhat hopeful.  We wished to make it back home from a business trip to watch the first, and for me last, game of our alma mater’s college football season.  Sometimes I forget, this is a recipe for a crimson and gray debacle.  We weren’t necessarily convinced that Washington State would win the upcoming game, but with a new coach and a new year, we were hopeful that they wouldn’t embarrass themselves.  Again……these are indeed low expectations.  Losing 30 to 6, against a solid team known as BYU,  even growing up a Catholic, I’m considering converting to a team which wins.  BLASPHEMY!

I’ll make this brief.  Graduating with a degree from Washington State University provides a sense of personal fulfillment.  Knowing the Cougar’s football team will remain terrifically and embarrassingly dreadful FOREVER gives me a sense of relief.  I only threw one wiffleball bat during the course of last night’s game.  Then, I reminded myself, or perhaps it was my wife reminding me of my immature behavior resembling the Cougar football team.  I officially waved the white flag at halftime, because I remembered when I cared.  Giving up is somewhat of a virtue.

Much like throwing a colossal F bomb on a golf course after you lose all your balls, it makes you feel a little better.  Then, you move on and accept you’re just not good enough to play the game.  I don’t golf anymore and my career of being phony is over.  I wish the WSU cougars could accept that fact.  My wife (also maintaining a degree from Washington State University) isn’t over it quite yet, but I have been for years accepting the truth regarding a load of boys in Pullman, Washington wishing to compete in football.  Tossing bats, cats and remotes during a college game only causes marital friction, and that’s a fact son.

Here’s the exact fact.  If you wish to root for any team in the great state of Washington, make certain you have an even greater pain tolerance for losing.   I don’t anymore, and that’s why I write softly and carry a wiffleball bat instead of the Louisville Slugger required to bash in that television screen while wasting a night thinking, just for one tenth of a second, my alma mater may succeed.

This was written with a bit of writer’s Incredible Hulk anger, so forgive me if it sounded as such, but writing is far more therapeutic than injuring a television when my skin turns green.

A little side note:  Our house guest, ironing his University of Washington Husky shirt last night, thanked me for not tackling him during the course of this epic disaster of a football nightmare in our living (and Coug dying) room.

F the Cougs.  End of Story.