How Buschie the Rally Squirrel Made Me Love George W. Bush
Sports fans are born in October.
I’m not into sports. I have even been made fun of for my lack of sports knowledge, just because one time I accidentally called the Stanley Cup the Big Trophy.
My friend, who was presumably trying to help, told me to learn a few good sports words like nickel defense and special teams. She told me to confidently say those words and then quickly change the subject. That way, she said, no one will ever know that I don’t know what I’m talking about.
But apparently if you say “nickel and dime ‘em” defense people know right away that you don’t know what you’re talking about.
The problem is sports vernacular is complicated, intricate and masculine. And I think men don’t want women to understand it, or else they wouldn’t make it so obscure. But this fall I became determined to become a legitimate sports enthusiast.
I believe it is important for me to show my sons that women can participate in an intelligent, fast-paced, sports commentary. So I have been studying hard, and I think I have infiltrated the secret male club.
The catalyst for my big change was that my husband’s favorite team, the St. Louis Cardinals, made it to the World Cup in batball.
The winning started when a simple carpenter threw a three-hit lockout to win the game against the Philadelphia Mares. It is great that the owners and players agreed to have the championship games because I thought they were in the middle of a shutout.
Like any good sports aficionado, I am diligently practicing my superstitions; I spit into my hand before I pick up my children, I’m growing my rally mustache, I wear the same outfit every night for the game (freshly laundered), and I do not talk about fight club.
What I do talk about is the great history of the Cardinals' longtime mascot, Buschie the Rally Squirrel, who was named after former president George W. Bush because he used to own the team.
It was a pretty hard to figure out how the World Cup works. At first I thought we had won, but then we lost, and then we won, but then we lost again twice. So I’m not really sure about that, but apparently it is played seven times and then they add up the total score of each team and see who wins. Next they divide it by pi and they get the Arby Eye of each player. They then subtract any mistakes made and get the ERA. Well you know how it is … there is a lot of math.
All in all, I am feeling pretty good about the Cardinals winning, especially since in 2002 Babe Ruth put a curse on the Texas Strangers because they wouldn’t let him bring his pet, Billy the Goat, to a game, even though he had spent $100,000 on a ticket for it.
Once the World Cup is over, I am venturing into soccer (Fun Fact: That is what sophisticated Europeans call our football) and our local team, the Tampa Bay Bucks. (If you are not from here, you may not know that Bay Buck is the common name for an endangered mammal that lives in our waterways, also known as a manatee.) Go, Bay Bucks!
There you have it! I, the loyal wife, the once sports ignoramus, have turned into a witty and informed sports fanatical. (Watch out ESP!)
Good Luck, Cardinals!
Oops. I mean break a leg.