I Care Too Much

I went back on my promise. I got weak. I cared too much. I turned on the nationally televised Blazer game last night with the Blazers leading 15-7. I watched until Steve Nash hit a 3-pointer to pull the Suns within 21-19. Greg Oden was then called for a travel and I was convinced that I had fully swung the momentum. So I turned the tv off and took a deep breath. 

Let's think this through, I thought.

The Blazers are on national TV. Not only do their playoff lives rest in the balance, but so does our local pride. That's a load of guilt for one guy to handle. My phone buzzed and I looked down to see I'd received a message from a dear friend. "I'm at the Blazer game. Don't watch."

Already vulnerable, how could I let my dear friend down, let alone my team and city?

So I kept it off and read a book to my son instead.

Sure enough, the Blazers crushed the Suns. 

I am swearing off of them for the rest of the year and for as far as they go in the playoffs.

I don't think they'll advance too far this year, maybe a round or two, depending on how soon they run into the Lakers. But I am sacrificing myself for the team.  Screw the money if Mr. Allen doesn't want to pay me what is rightfully mine.  But this curse will not go away, and I cannot promise I won't get weak again, and test it when the Blazers are on the verge of greatness, when I am desiring to see history as it happens. It is true I care too much, but I am equally weak in my desire to witness the moment. Just keep that in mind Mr. Allen.

And you're welcome.