I had a decent day at work today. Not spectacular. I’m not reaching for the Johnnie Walker or anything already, either. But
If you know you know but I’m guessing many or most don’t
I did what I do in March which is:
- Think all day about what to slice, and
- Think about what work to do after work, before baseball practice so I’m ready for tomorrow
I get to my grandparents’ for our Tuesday visit and the kids start to eat and I figure out who needs what help with what so I can settle in to today’s slice and then
I was raised to be devoted. And I am, in pretty much all things, to a fault. One of those things is my Chicago sports teams. It’s borderline sick and I know it but it’s part of my identity. My dad is not a tattoo guy and got his first one about 7 years ago – a Bears logo on his shoulder. So I got one too. And recently my 18 year old boy did. Edward Junior, the IIIrd and numero four all with Bears tats. We’re in. Big dedication. Like the Cubs were the team who could never win the big one until they finally did, the Bears have never, in history of ever, had a quarterback. They dangled a stud, Russel Wilson, in front of us the last week or so. Immediately without even playing a game he would become BY FAR the best we ever had.
Instead. Andy Dalton. If you don’t know football, or who Mr Dalton is? Context clues.
Hopefully we find out this is some front office shenanigans – tomorrow or next week we actually snag Russ and this guy is here as a backup.
But with even blind devotion comes knowledge. Awareness – even if tinged by hope. Until they prove they’re going to do it right, I have to know they won’t and wish I’m wrong.
I know non-football people probably tuned out long ago. I won’t continue this diatribe the rest of the month, promise. It’s just funny how, when we are obsessed with something, everything else can be blotted out instantly. And usually, the object of our obsession has not a care, or even any idea at all, how much their decisions can destroy us. Which is a huge reason why obsession is never a great choice. The thing is, as much as naysayers would say otherwise, obsession is just beyond the threshold where choice ends and identity begins for those with it embedded in our DNA.