If you’ve ever watched your favorite football team in a Super Bowl game, you can readily relate to the maddening frustration of this with, hopefully, some exclusions contained herein…maybe…
There your team is…4th quarter, 3rd and goal. The opposing team is leading with a score of 21 to your team’s 20. Instead of using a bit of insurance by electing to punt for the extra point to, at least, tie the ballgame and buy some “overtime,” some bright idea is circulated throughout your team to, instead, run the ball into the end zone. “No! Don’t do it!” you yell.
However, your yells and screams at the television go largely unheeded (I wonder why?) You have an instant premonition of Murphy’s Law coming into full effect. In fact, Murphy’s Law is now upon you. The quarterback cries, “33! 46! 33! 27! Hut! Hut! Hu-…”
Crash! Boom! Knock!
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“Ouch! Get off my finger!”
This sudden interruption in the quarterback’s final “Hut!” was largely the result of several very LARGE men, with even larger uniforms, piling atop him. “Well, on the final 30 seconds, a brick wall was awaiting the quarterback,” the television announcer comments. Oops! Ye olde Quarterback Sneak just ain’t what it used to be…the linemen are much smarter today.
When America’s team, the Dallas Cowboys, would lose in this ostentatious manner, in my house, you had better be long gone from the room, and out the front door, lest an unexpected trip to the Emergency room awaited you.
For my brother, who was a wee bit more than simply an avid fan, would literally cry, curse, slobber, break furniture, hurt innocent bystanders and, subsequently, seek a small caliber handgun for full effect (it is truly awful to witness a grown man react in this manner).
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Several minutes later, about a mile down the street, and from behind a tree, I would yell back, “Mickey! They’re getting millions of dollars to lose the game! All YOU’RE getting is acute hypertension! May I come home now?”
