Here is a topic I know close to nothing about, but thought it necessary to voice my opinion on anyway: Sports, from a perspective that knows close to nothing about sports and fair weather fans.

So it looks like Football season has started and Baseball season has been forgotten about by all the fare-weather Padre fans in San Diego.  All the Charger fans are riled up for a minute, possibly fueled by the fact the local team made it further than expected last year. The Playoffs, was it?  I don't know, I don't pay too much attention, but there are some things you can't ignore when you live two shakes of a bunnies tail from the football stadium. 

If you know me, which most of you don't, you know sports are not a topic that I delve into with knowledge and gusto. I can be entertained with parts of a game if the company I am with, is enthralled with a team. Take a Red Sox game during the World Series for instance; I can get into the game when my roommates are standing on the couch hollering at the TV all the possibilities the team could have done to make the play better or cheering them on to run faster to ensure a home run and another chance to whack that ball to the "Green Monster," or whatever that famous home run wall is.  I used to get into the a football game when my Dad use to watch the Broncos play every weekend from the family room couch and stand up during an exceptionally intense moment and then let that anxiety go, yelling at the TV to "GO GO GO GO GO!" I couldn't help but be intrigued with the game although I had no clue what was happening.I have never been one to be a shoulder tapper and insist on instructions on how to understand a game while it is happening either, so I just never really learned.  I can get wrapped up in the intensity that is a sport and competition, however, my emotional forecast for the week, is not based on whether a group of people I watched do the job they are paid for, live up to or not, the standard I had hoped.  I don't really get the hard core fans.  I do get that it is a hobby, though,  I respect anyone that has a hobby and/or anything that they are passionate about. 

ON the other hand: Fair weather fans, I do not understand what-so-ever.  This is something that has recently started me thinking about my cities sports teams.  The San Diego Chargers and the San Diego Padres.  Considering the audience and support that a team has, does have so much to do with how well a team does in most cases; San Diego really was dealt a raw hand from the get-go.

Sports are SUPPOSED to be about how well the players do as a team against other players on other teams. In REALITY, marketing, cash backing, and fan support, are the big players in winning a championship title. For instance: The New York Yankee's have a huge cash flow backing, therefore encouraging more fans, which boost player ego, which stimulates testosterone and focus, aiding in a better competitive game, and often a win.   The Yankee's had Baby Ruth for goodness sake.  They made his legacy into a candy bar that is oddly delicious.  There is a loyalty to that team that holds strong whether they win the World Series, or strike out. The same loyalty goes equally for their rivals the Red Sox from what I have seen.  There may even be more loyalty with less backing in that team.  I will have to do more research on that one. 

San Diego's problem with professional sports teams, is not beyond mascots, colors, and logos.  The marketing can be too easy of a target, but should be addressed.  San Diego is a phenomenal place to have all of those football AND baseball games.  If you think about it, other cities should be rooting for San Diego to win some games, just so their teams have a decent playing field to play on because chances are the weather is not too wet, not too hot, not too cold, and it sure as hell isn't snowing.  There are three problems with the San Diego teams I have noticed.

#1 This is a huge transplant city and people live here often, because they have to, not because they come to embrace the city for longer than a vacation.

#2 The mascots are questionable as far as professional grade in my less than professional opinion.

#3 The local fans are not loyal (most likely due to the fact most are transplants).  They are fair weather fans and seats don't sell out at home games unless there have been winning streaks. This starts the lack of confidence in the local teams, therefore passing on this lack of confidence to the players not giving them an audience to perform for.  Professional Athletes need an audience just like actors do. The vicious cycle starts

 This may not be the fans fault entirely, I blame the people that decided the names and icons that represent these teams.  Marketing is a huge part of the sports industry and these people pick two of the strangest, least competitive, least threatening, and vague logos to represent an otherwise awesome city?  No wonder this city has a hard time getting it up for their own sports teams when times are rocky.  For instance: The Chargers.  There are two logos.  One is a curved lightning bolt and one is a chess piece "knight" looking horse.  Chargers along with a lightning bolt, tells me that they charge batteries,  fix the brown outs and black outs California is famous for, it is electric. That is a cool idea, but I don't think that could hold a candle to another sports team.  Because I grew up in Colorado, the Broncos were the only horse that made sense to me, they would buck you off or kick if the horse didn't want you there. The Charger horse was lost on me, until someone said the horse was a "Charger" was a horse that charged first in battle.  This made a little bit more sense, but I still see both logos used.  Which one do I go for?  What do they mean by "Charger?"  Can anyone tell me? 

If you think about it, Valentine’s Day and Halloween are pretty much the same holiday.  Both are Holidays that are not recognized by a day off work, but are a good excuse to eat candy, drink, and dress up. Halloween is just a cooler version. 

Every year come Valentine’s Day, the anticipation of what the big February 14^th has in store starts building around the 1^st.  My single friends start banning together swearing off the day and plan a drink fest.  Those in relationships start racking their brains on what to do for this holiday.  Cards are necessary, candy is debatable, flowers are imperative, dinner is usually splurged on, and jewelry is above and beyond but definitely scores points. I pity guys on February 14^th, especially because with the timing of the holiday, it may also act as redemption for the last few months leading up to the Super Bowl. Candy: girls love it and love to hate it even more. Flowers are expensive, then die and make a mess. Jewelry is expensive, especially if she is not “the one” you don’t want to make that sort of lasting investment. Hallmark cards are cheesy. Cutesy little pink and red things you would have no interest in receiving the other 364 days out of the year are now necessary. The pressure is on for the male population if they want to prove to their ladies they were thinking about them long enough while they were apart to buy them something that expresses their true feelings. In return, ladies are expected to make the sex extra special.  Going to lengths to buy something extra sexy to be worn to dinner and then immediately thrown onto the floor in minutes, maybe a racy bikini wax to compliment the new outfit.  Of course it is customary for women to buy little gifts for their guys as well, but it is easier for a woman to gush in a cheesy card, maybe give him a booklet of “get out of jail free cards” and rock his world that night.   Don’t get me wrong, all of this can be a fun way to add a little something extra to the relationship, but it resembles prostitution of you really break it down. 

Now, keep the whorish costumes, candy, and alcohol and take off the pressure.  That is Halloween. Couples can be couples and singles can be singles.  Everyone gets to take on a different persona for the night.  Girls are not openly judged for dressing like a prostitute if they choose, and guys have every right to stare. Creativity and humor are welcomed with out the threat of “killing the mood.”  Pressure is off. 

This is the first time I was to meet the guy my mother is married to.  Before this encounter, the only time I had heard his actual name, (Bruce) was when he was hired, and working for my parents doing the iron work on the house my parents built together.  I never actually knew what he looked like.  I just knew the name of the company he owned, what his truck looked like, and his name.  Needless to say, it was easy to put two and two together seeing his truck parked in front of my mothers house.

My first encounter with the 'Sprinkler Guy' was not long after we moved into the house on Hillcrest Street (this was the house my Grandpa bought for my Mother so she could flee from the house we lived in as a family before the divorce was even started)  It was built like 200BC though.  Some call it "quaint,"  I called it "cold" in the winter. This house needed a lot of work.  I happened to be home alone one afternoon when I noticed a person trolling through this yard that I had recently been able to claim as apart of my own.  I guessed him at about 5'9, but it was hard to judge from the primate-like posture.  The top of his head was bare but the sparse, white, ponytail that came to his shoulders made up for the lack of vegetation on top of his skull.  His goatee highlighted his full set of chompers that were neither very white, nor fit proportionately in his mouth.  It looked like something was about to give in his cranium.  I digress- His appearance was not the reason I initially didn't approve of his presence. 

I see this cave man character tromping around the yard I have recently been able to claim as something I care about because I will be residing here for the majority of the week.  This is my "home" for the time being, therefore I feel responsible for making sure it is not violated while I am there.  He is not welcome as far as I am concerned.  This feeling could be accentuated by the fact I am suspicious my mother is seeing someone while still technicaly married to my dad, and I hadn't expected that person to randomly come to the house posing as a non threat, trying to infiltrate the system while guards were down.   

After watching him survey the yard, I walked out to the porch, crossed my arms, waited and watched as he walked from sprinkler head to sprinkler head in the yard until he noticed me.  He looked up, and was startled to see there was someone watching him.  It was almost a guilty acknowledgement.   He knew he was not going to be welcomed with open arms.  But he sure tried.

I let my stare linger for an uncomfortable few seconds more as he decided how he wanted to approach this situation.  Then I introduced myself. 

"Hi, may I help you?"  O.K.  I didn't introduce myself in the formal sense of the term, but I had a feeling he knew who I was. His response was pretty benign:

"Oh, Hi!, I am a friend of your mom's.  I am here to help with the sprinkler system."

My facial expression stayed as impressed as I felt.

"OK. well she isn't here right now.  I will tell her you stopped by though."

He was a little taken back.  I learned later, most people don't talk to him like this.  He happens to be hot shit in the thug community, apparently.

He left shortly after our meeting.  I waited for my mother to return home so I could tell her how I saved the house from the scary Neanderthal Man.  She was not as impressed as I was with myself...

As she started to unload groceries with me, I causally slipped in "Oh, the Sprinkler Guy came by."

She paused for a moment, and asked me to repeat myself. 

"The Sprinkler Guy.  He came over to help with the sprinklers.  I told him you were not here and I would tell you he stopped by." 

This made her furious.  I am not sure if it was because I had turned him away in a sense, called him "The Sprinkler Guy"referring to him as "the help," or because her little secret was about to be blown, and she knew it.  She asked coolly "Do you mean Bruce?" 

I was on the right track to sniffing something out, so I played along. 

"I don't know his name, the Sprinkler Guy, the one you asked to help with it?  He never introduced himself.  Do you mean a stocky man, Neanderthal looking, white hair, bald on top with a ponytail, substantial gut, and big protruding teeth?" 

These were the exact coordinates to push the "Loose Your Shit Button."  She let out a lecture on what kind of person  Bruce, The Sprinkler Guy is, and can be, and how much of an "old wise Indian" he is. The term "Old, Wise Indian" is still lost on me as to why she would use these words as descriptors in defining this mans character.  Either way, The term "The Sprinkler Guy" was cemented into my mind.  I was like a bully on a fat kid.  Relentless, when it came to bringing up the taboo subject of my mothers new found "handyman"  he will forever be "The Sprinkler Guy"  to me. 

People are some of the strangest creatures. I am not a stalker or peeping Tom, but I do enjoy just watching what people do when they don't realize they are being observed. It leaves me wondering "Why? What was the logic behind that?"  Working at an enormous apartment complex leaves me asking that question daily. 

Today, I was walking down the main street at my apartment complex that I have named "The Drag Strip" because of the need most people feel to drive no less than 150 MPH down a quarter mile stretch. I am watching as people inch out of the side streets and put their lives in fates hands as they blindly pull out to the main drag hoping they are spared by the ongoing race around the apartment complex.  I see an older gentleman start to inch out of the leasing office parking lot.  A kind patron slowed down and waved him in front of her.  Nice enough gesture.  He accepted with a thank you wave and then looked left and right before proceeding.  No less than three seconds after her initial gesture, she threw her hands up in the air and then back to the steering wheel signaling her patience had just run out.  Strange to think someone would so willingly make the gesture, but not be able to wait the three seconds it takes to begin moving again.  Generosity and patience are a lot to ask for. 

 It is little things like this that make me realize I just won’t ever fully understand why people do what they do, but then again it is none of my business in the first place.