Yesterday in Rio, Brazil, the Dallas Cowboys played the Baltimore Ravens. As time wound down, with under a minute to go, Cowboys down 3 (31-28), there was a shockingly pass interference called in the end zone. Ceedee Lamb hooked the defensive back’s arm to prevent an interception, an obvious offensive pass interference, BUT somehow, miraculously, called defensive pass interference, giving the Cowboys a first down at the goal line. A GIFT! This meant this game was over, the Cowboys would win and escape Rio with a big, important win. We could reconsider that first loss to the NY Giants, an unfortunate aberration, and this is the team they actually are; possibly, probably Super Bowl bound. We’re often told the Cowboys have this awesome, stampeding offense. Of course, the defense is terrible lately, but the offense is a juggernaut. They would outscore everyone. (North AND South) America’s team!!!!
3 abysmal plays later, none even close to a touchdown, a field goal tied the game, 31-31, with 7 seconds left. Everybody’s favorite host, Scott Hansen of the NFL RedZone, told us the Ravens would take a knee and we’d go to overtime. In at least the last 25 years, no NFL game had 2 successful field goals in the last 7 seconds. Except the Ravens quarterback wasn’t listening to Scott Hansen and threw a 30ish yard pass instead, followed by a time out and 56 yard game-winning field goal.
A team simply can’t lose a game like this in 7 seconds.
Now what? Who knows? But I suppose I don’t care. Do you know what love is supposed to be? Patient & kind. Not keeping records of wrongs (or disgusting losses.) Love always hopes, perseveres, never fails. It’s dumb to love a sports team, but I guess I do. Not like I love The Angel or anything, but love nonetheless. We all have levels of love, whether we should or not, right? And I suppose I love the Dallas Cowboys (more than the torn pair of shorts I always wear, less than Morrissey). That’s the only thing we can deduce from my inability to move away from them into the arms and fan base of another. I will never leave.
This is great news for The Angel. There is apparently nothing she can do to get me to leave, or for me to ever love her any less.
When I answered “Who knows?” to the question “Now what?” I wasn’t being honest. I know. I’ll keep on. I’ll be patient. I’ll keep hoping that every year is THE year. Love is unconditional and often irrational. They can keep losing in more and more disappointing ways and I’ll still be waiting at home, while dinner is on the table getting cold.
