Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Something About The Ted

By Chris

Computer is jacked up . . . so Teresa is severely blog handicapped for the moment. So, here goes . . .

It's college basketball season. More specifically, it's ODU Basketball season. My favorite time of year. Nick, Ben and I go to every game . . . with my old college roomies. A few weeks ago, I was telling Teresa ... "There's something special about that place . . . the boys fight everywhere else, but once we get there, they never fight. They fight at home, they fight at the football games, they fight in the car. They fight EVERYWHERE! But, not there. You would think they're best buddies. I'm telling you, it's special!" She probably thought I was over-selling. She NEVER goes to basketball games, and probably thinks my commitment to them is a bit much. She reminds me that I've missed anniversaries for them, and once went to a tournament with her still bed-resting from a baby delivery. But, she went this Saturday. The boys were giddy that mom was going to finally see how awesome it is at The Ted (she'd never seen a game there). Nick even gave up his Big Blue Club Room priveledges for the night so she could get the full experience, complete with free Diet Coke and entering through the "special door." Ben showed her "what to do." For him, that means, get one drink, sip it down while mingling, then double fist two more to take into the arena, check out the players warming up and sit down in time to see the mascot Big Blue make his grand entrance. On cue, with the car in "park" next to the arena, the fighting stopped, and Mom got to witness the "special-ness" As always, Nick scoped out courtside seats on the other side of the arena in the first half, and moved to them, texting me at halftime to send Ben over when it looked all clear (that is, nobody was showing up to throw them out). And, as usual, they sat together for the whole second half alone. I could tell she was waiting for the eruption, and thinking I had lost my mind for letting them do that sort of thing together . . . alone. It never happened . . . As always, they watched, cheered, danced and laughed together. In the car, mom looked at me, and said: "You're right. It's amazing!" In the back seat, the fighting commenced. We laughed. Now Mom's a basketball believer.

2 comments:

Karen said...

I enjoy reading your stories, Chris. Now I see why you like going to basketball games.

Nanny Jackie said...

Great story! That certainly is a strange phenomonon.