Originally posted October 11, 2009
As I rode in the car with my friend Sunday a.m. to a friend's daughter's baptism, I had two moments: 1) A "Sex and the City" moment-not unlike when the ladies were headed out of their element to a baby shower on Long Island and 2) A "Ah ha" moment. The "Ah Ha" moment was much more tragic. It was the realization that as much as I love me my MSU, I am a chronic sufferer of the Spartan inferiority complex. "Hi. My name is Kristi. And I've had this chip on my shoulder for 24 years." Ouch. It hurts.
As evidence, I offer up the following-the two people I sparred with the most at Chelle's tailgate were under the age of 12. Really, Kristi? One of the girls, who is actually much more intelligent than I am and will only be going to UM if her main plan of not getting into the Harvard of the East, i.e., Harvard, takes place, just kept saying "Go Blue." Seriously, I just wanted to punch her-either her face or throat would have been fine. This, I realize is not only NOT normal adult behavior, but borders on criminal. The other child, even younger than 12, and every bit as adorable-all dressed in a pink and white UM jersey with block M earrings and a sweet gap between her two front teeth looked at me and my shirt, in somewhat mocking disgust I am sure of, and said, "Why do you like Michigan State?" And here was a teachable moment. A moment for me to act like an adult and exemplify good sportmanship and all that is fun about collegiate football. Alas, this teachable moment never took place. Although, sadly, another one did. I said to her, "Because I went to school at Michigan State." This is where I should have stopped. This is one of those moments when I would usually say to my husband, "Just stop right there." But did I heed my advice? No. Sadly, I said to her, "Where did YOU go to school?" And she just looked at me with the most befuddled look on her face like, "Um....I'm 9. I'm in elementary school."
So we get to the football game and I'm so worried about someone being rude, or teasing me, or throwing a drink and wheat thins at me (oh wait, that last bit happened), that I actually turned around to the two wonderful UM fans behind me and APOLOGIZED for being so excited. Not unlike the 9-year-old, they too seem confused. "It's o.k.," one of them said gently, "You're allowed to cheer for your team." And even with 5 minutes and 19 seconds left, with the Spartans up 34 to 17, I still had no confidence it was in the bag. As a rule, Spartan fans generally just need to watch the last two minutes of the football game, because that is what it often comes down to for us. Despite the fact that UM fans were fleeing the stadium in droves, heads bowed, and with what appeared to be carrying the weight of the world of their shoulders, I held out for the last 60 seconds before I started to "believe."
So as I reflect on the horror of a 24-year inferiority complex (which is rooted in a deep and dark history), I choose to turn my "Ah Ha" moment into a teachable moment for me with some lessons learned and new rules to live by: love your team; embrace their success (without being rude to others, especially when you are in "their" house); be totally excited, jump up and down, and scream and shout; realize that when an asshole throws food at you, it's because your team is KICKING ASS (Oh yeah, I said it) and they are jealous; allow yourself to embrace bragging rights for the year, but do so graciously; avoid sparring with children under the age of 18 (once they are in college-everyone is fair game) and do not, I repeat, DO NOT for any reason when you get back to the tailgate, expect anyone from the opposing team to congratulate you. You will only be disappointed.
Let me end the blog with the most beautiful site of the day, and one that should inspire us all. As John Stewart would say, "Here's your moment of zen."
This is a generous UM fan helping a wounded Spartan across the street, NOT dumping him out of his wheel chair. At least that is my story and I'm sticking to it! Sparty on!
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