I don’t care for any kind of affected “Tee hee, I don’t know about sports, I’m a girl” or condescending “Ugh, sportsball, gross.” But the thing is, I don’t really like sports. And I genuinely am kind of dumb about them. And sometimes it’s hard to express or admit that without sounding like one or the other.
When Chris and I ended up at a Nuggets game last night, I felt a bit like an imposter. We ended up with free tickets and had pretty good seats even. I was excited to eat nachos and drink beer if nothing else. But my commentary was like, “Geez, that guy’s really tall,” and “Wait, what happened?” times 100. I texted my friend Tracy, who was watching the game on tv, for help.
But by the end of the night I was kind of pumped. I had some favorite players (Kelly Oleynik from Boston and Timofey Mozgov on our team). I confess I was rooting for both teams to do well because…well, that’s just how this brain works. But our team won! And something about tacos! If tickets weren’t like a bajillion dollars, we might go all the time.