For years, my home has coveted Sundays as a binge-worthy day for our favorite sports. No matter the season, there seems to be more than one sport to follow at any time. February to Thanksgiving each year is the NASCAR race season, kicked off every February with Daytona 500. Those close to us know not to call, text, ring the doorbell or just show up unannounced. We will ignore you.
Don and I shared many years of daily discussions on sports as we took part in a few fantasy sports teams together. I still compete in 5 NASCAR fantasy leagues, some of which have 100 teams in the league. I have competed with some of these teams for 10-15 years. It takes a lot of research and reading stats to pick drivers for each race plus head-to-head winners for bonus points. We have learned each other’s strategies. I seem to be the competitor with one off-the-wall driver no one else took. It often pays off. There is a limit on how many times we can use one driver. To beat the best, you also need a bit of luck as the weather, blown engines, rotten tires, and faulty pit crews can change everything out of our control. It’s a balance each week between the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.
Sunday, June 23rd, the NASCAR Cup race was going on for over 6 hours. Extra long because of weather delays and lots of mechanical issues that threw an above-average number of cautions. The race was down to the last 10 laps and I was the lucky competitor who was sitting #1 on all 5 leagues. Sitting on the edge of my chair, I was feeling the thrill of victory coming my way. That’s when I hear:
Don: I’m ready to go home.
Kristy: You are home. Go get a cookie. The race will be over in 15 minutes.
Don: Don’t you think it’s time for me to go home?
Kristy: Just hang-on a few minutes and we can talk.
Don: I’m going now, so I need the keys to my truck.
Kristy: Get away from me for 15 minutes.
Don: Where are the keys?
Kristy: Go away.
Don: I just need the address.
Kristy: So help me God, get out of my office and away from the key collection before I summon the kick-ass rooster.
I looked away for 10 seconds so Don could plainly see my face. That’s when the final caution was thrown in the race and everything changed.
I later thought of the song from the 2002 movie version of Chicago called “When You’re Good to Mama,” masterfully performed by Queen Latifah.
Got a little motto
Always sees me through
When you’re good to Mama
Mama’s good to you
There’s a lot of favors
I’m prepared to do
You do one for Mama
She’ll do one for you
They say that life is tit for tat
And that’s the way I live
So, I deserve a lot of tat
For what I’ve got to give
Don’t you know that this hand
Washes that one, too?
When you’re good to Mama
Mama’s good to you
Today was not a good day for mama.
Note to Self: I predict that uncanny timing and negative juju will have grave consequences on a Sunday for the crazy man I live with.