Walking out of the gym after a playoff game, I heard the traditional pounding of the Freaks drums. At least 100 Freaks had formed a tunnel leading up to our team bus, and were waiting for autographs and pictures. The weird thing is that we had just got upset and we were headed home for good. They were still there acting like we had hung the moon.
I have been on teams in great cities like Phoenix, Chicago, and even a preseason in San Antonio, but the fans here in Bamberg really are something special. The Freaks truly lived up to their reputation.
You know the feeling like you want to just lock yourself in a room and burn past lovers items while Melissa Etheridge is crying out her music in the background? That is how I felt sitting on the bus after we lost. I had the worst taste in my mouth as I looked upon our faithful Freaks. Crying wasnt in the cards for me though. Tom Hanks said that Theres no crying in Baseball, so why would there be crying in my sport.
Our team just couldnt get things going in the playoffs, for whatever reason. We were the exact opposite of John Mayers love life. Really, he always overachieves with the ladies, and we underachieved in the postseason.
This season put a bad taste in my mouth and John Mayer unfairly has Jennifer Aniston in his. We all buzzed our heads and grew beards for the playoffs and made it look good. Mr. Mayer makes ugly faces while he sings and plays his guitar.
This just reiterates my feeling that life just isnt fair. Just like the fact that some people try to eat right and do all they can to be in shape and look like an athlete while others in the business can eat whatever they want.
Case in point, I have a teammate that looks like Mr. Universe, but eats garbage. He looks like his response to a question about his diet would be, I had two-hundred pushups and an apple for breakfast. Had fifty chin-ups as an appetizer for lunch then a 5-mile sprint for dessert. For dinner I had a chicken breast with wheat rice, and I can already see it on my hips.
Once again it is the opposite. We had a bus trip the other day and his bag looked like a Seven-Eleven. He eats Pringles by the pound and Twix like the overweight kid that always had crumbs on his shirt in junior high. His pre-game meal, you guessed it, Mambas.
Cry me a river right?
So I now have to go home to America with a bad taste in my mouth, while John Mayer gets to taste his flavor of the month. My teammate gets to continue to eat all the junk food he wants and look like a body builder, while the Freaks unjustly have no more games to attend. Who is to blame? I dont know. Lets just follow Milli Vanillis lead and Blame it on the Rain.