I don't much care for basketball

Yesterday, Frank called me up and asked me if I'd like to go with him to see a Sixers (Basketball) game.

I don't much care for basketball, but I figured it'd be fun (and more interesting that seeing the inside of my apartment for the eight early evening in a row)

So we went to go watch men who play basketball for a living. In no other sport does it really bother me that they're getting paid to play a game-- except for basketball. Football, hockey, soccer, even baseball-- a game involving more standing and staring than actual running-- all seem justified to me. I guess having lived in west philly and seeing so many kids playng basketball on the street, it seems difficult for me to rationalize how it's fair, or justified for grown men to get paid to play the game on television.

The seats that Frank received from his job were really good seats. They were low down on the court, so close that if I were to shout an obcenity to one of the players, they'd surely hear me, and might give me a nasty look, as they could see me pretty well.

The game was the Sixers vs the Bucks, and here I was thinking that it'd be an easy contest for the sixers, having Iverson fresh back from an injury, and their fresh, rookie (he's MY AGE, for christ sakes) 3 point shooting white boy on the court. I don't know much about basketball-- or at least about the NBA. I don't care to, and it's really not nessicary, as philly is only a basketball town once the sixers make it to (and choke out of) the playoffs.

Frank would turn to me and make mention of various players on the bucks who were once sixers players, and some of their names were vaugely familiar, but most weren't. Frank knows a lot of nuances about almost every sport, and he likes to go on about his vast sports knowledge to me. Most of the time, I have at least a good idea what he's talking about, but yesterday he was talking fucking french to me. I don't know no fuckin' basket ball. He spouted off a few facts about the makeup of the bucks roster, and none of them seemed to click with anything I remembered. I did remember Kyle Kover, and his Ashton Kutcher haircut.

Kyle Korver played a bit... He's a cutie... and he's the Sixers answer to the 3 point shooting white boy question. He really does look a lot like Ashton Kutcher, but less so in person. And we were seriously in person, I could have spit on the guy if I wanted.

Anyway, I was having difficulty getting into the spirit of the game. Mostly because I had an insane headache from work (They're painting the fucking walls this ugly yellow color and the paint they're using makes me sick) and as I'm trying to get into the groove of the game, the sixers just started to blow ass. It turned out that the sixers had a case of the mondays and played like 12 year old girls who were completley unaware of what the word "Defense" meant. Amusingly, Frank turned to me and said, "Do you remember when the Sixers used to play defense," just as I was about to say, "What the hell happened to their defensive game?"

Then, not too long after the defense statment, this fat drunk lady and this chunky guy walked over next to us. The woman was toasted, a drink in each hand, and she was also a Bucks fan. She was loud. She was obnoxious. She was fucking hillarious.

She shouted, and hooped and hollared, and made a complete ass of herself, but frank and I just kept on laughing. She asked us if we were sixers fans or if we just came becuase Frank scored the tickets for us, and then she started shouting, "They hate the sixers! They're just here 'cause they've got the tickets!" After a while, she got comfortable and asked what our names were. "Frank," he said. She responded, "Nice to meet you frank, I'm Kay." (inner giggle from me) "Pam," I said and she responded, "Nice to meet you Kim."

I'm not crazy. I have a wittness. People think my name is kim.

Anyway, Drunken Kay calls me Kim for a while, and decides that it's time for another trip to the bar. She said, "Hey kim, you want a Vodka and cranberry?" I turned Drunken Kay down (god forbid-- me turn down a drink?) and she came back with a Absolut and Cranberry for me anyway.

How nice.

"Here, Kim, I was thinking of you up there."

"Um... Thanks so much," even after me correcting her, "It's kim right?"
"No, it's Pam."
"Kim?"
"Pam."
"Kim??"
"No. No. Pam. Pam as in Pamela!"
"Kim? No? OH. Pam. I'm sorry hun."

Then she turned to Frank and says, "It's Steve, right," and she waves over at him accross my lap, and I say, "No it's Frank." And then she says (I swear to god) "Frank, Steve... same difference, they're all Italian."

This lady was fun.

Frank suggested that I tell her my name was Kim F as in frank A I B as in boy A N as in nancy O. Ha ha ha ha! All the while, Drunken Kay just kept on talking... There were these three guys in front of us, one was a good looking (gay) guy, wearing a black turtleneck who she kept touching, and saying that his hair was sexy, and he had a goregous face. After a while, she had spilled a little of her drink on sexy gay guy's sholder during some of her more boisterous shouts for her beloved bucks, and she points at mister homo's sholders saying, "I think our man down here has a little bit of a dandruff problem!"

Laughter ensued.

This kid- a pudgy italian looking kid of about nine. He had on a sixers headband and an Iverson jersey. So this fat kid walks by us on the stairs as he's leaving the bulding with his dad and Drunken Kay points at his Jersey and she says, "Iverson? He's DONE. Get out!" Frank starts laughing, and I say, "Oh my god, he's just a kid!" Drunken Kay responded with something to the effect of, "Well, fuck the kids. No one shut up when I was a kid, so fuck him."

You would have thought that frank was choking on something the way he was laughing.

She seriously yelled really loud for the bucs, and stood up and cheered. Every three minutes or so, she'd turn to me and say, "They hate me here, Pam. If they come for us, I'll cover you! GO BUCKS!" After a while I got tired of being quiet, and I shouted, "Lets GO Ashton!!!" at Kyle Korver. I rarely get the opportunity to see frank so embarrased. The poor man. I felt bad for him afterwards, but it was a funny moment.

It was okay, I got what I deserved. After I shouted out to Kyle, Drunken Kay turns to frank and said something of the effect of, "It's okay, she's just shouting because it's a sexual thing, she doesn't like the sixers. They're just here because they got the seats."

That's what I get.

I'm starting to believe that I attract people like this at sporting events, because I met some crazy motherfuckers at some eagles games, and some pretty fun ones at the last Temple football game Frank and I went to.

I don't think I went too far into detail about that trip. Well, see it was a college football game that we went to with our friend Rob (We being frank and I). It was VA tech vs Temple. Temple's football team sucks more ass than an inmate on Oz.

They're playing and whatnot, and for about the first half or so, VA Tech is whoopin our ass. Okay, that's to be expected. There's this guy , his mom and dad, his friend and his friend's girlfriend sittng behind us, and they were complete VA Tech fans. They are why my favorite football phrase is MOVE THE CHAINS! (A statment to be shouted when your team gets a first down, because they litterally have to move the first down chains) Every time VA Tech would get a first down, "MOVE THE CHAINS" would pop up on the jumbotron thingy in the Lincon Finacial Field.

The whole family was shouting various prhases, "Go Hokies," or some shit like that. It sounded like the white lady behind me was shouting, "Go honkies!" So I started shouting that too. I don't think frank apreciated that too much, but I thought it was hysterical. They would dangle their keys for important plays and whatnot, which I thought was idiodic, but when temple came up from behind, and took a breif lead, you bet your damn underpants that I mocked them by taking out my keys and shouting, "MOVE THE CHAINS!!!"

I was pretty obnoxious, but it's what I do.

Okay, I've been writing about attending sporting events for far too long.

Love and adoration,

pam