July 14, 2005

Was sitting at my desk with hair dripping wet from the shower I'd just crawled out of, groggily staring at my computer through a cold medicine haze, when the phone rang. It was Ross. "Ready to go to the game?" he asked, "I'm on my way home to pick you up."

That Ross is so unpredictable. Like when he says there's no way he can go to the game because webvisions is this week and he has tons of work and then calls 25 minutes before the game to ask if I'm ready to go. Am I ready to go? Let's see. Wet hair, no clothes on and I had to tie my brain to a string to keep it from floating off on a cold med high. I'm going to have to say no, I'm not ready to go to the game I was told we weren't going to.

But 5 minutes later, I was ready to go. Granted, I wasn't sure if I had my clothes on the right parts of my body and I had a box of kleenex stuffed up my nose, but I was ready. We're talking soccer, after all. You don't let little things like a cold or wearing socks on your head keep you from footy.

So I had the fun experience of watching a game while loopy on cold meds and with plugged up ears, which made it sound like the Timbers Army were singing "mamrrrfff mrrrff mumrfff" all night and every time Ross said anything to me, I ended up inadvertently impersonating Lil John. Was that a foul? Hwaaat?! Is Scot injured? Hwaaat?! Do you want something to eat? Hwaaat?! DO YOU WANT SOMETHING TO EAT? Yeaah! Lots o fun. Phlem and sweaty men rock the socks right off my head.

And the boys, they played magnificent, which is something they haven't done lately, but they were in such fine form that it gave me goosebumps. It was really quite electrifying the way they played. Hearts swelled with pride, eyes filled with tears, throngs of fans screamed, sang, and cheered their heads off. The euphoria was overwhelming.

And then it happened, only minutes til the end of the game, one tiny lapse in magnificence and our would be glorious victory became a bloody f'ing tie. The hearts filled with pride were yanked right out of our chests and crushed. 99% of the game was perfect, but 1% whoopsafuckindaisey ruined it all. Aarrrgh!

But Timbers fans, we're a hearty bunch, and over and over again on the way out of the stadium the valient cry could be heard, "at least we didn't lose!" Oh yes, that's us, the not losers. Winners, losers, screw them all. We're the Not Losers. Ahem. Sigh.

But despite the tie, I can't help but chuckle when I think of the game. It's a Timbers Army tradition that, every time the opposing goalie makes a goal kick, the Timbers Army screams "you suck, asshole" right when he kicks the ball. But tonight we were playing Vancouver, Vancouver as in Canada, so every time Vancouver's goalie made a goal kick, the Timbers Army yelled "you suck, asshole... Eh?" Why, no, we're not pillars of maturity, but at least Vancouver's goalie knew what we were talking aboot. :P

So now Ross is back at work, I'm back at my desk snorting cold medicine, and we had a good time, all things considered. Of couse, it would have been better if the Timbers had won... But at least they didn't lose, eh?

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