Jeremy: Irrationally Speaking

It's no secret to my partner on this website Jeff, that I find the fact that he cheers for several different teams in different areas of the country very convenient. I don't blame Jeff for this. He is a man from Canada who has strong appreciation for sports that are not prevalent, at least in the professional sense, in his home country. I honestly don't mind that Jeff cheers for these different teams. That's his choice, and he is entitled to it. Just as I'm entitled to forever giving him grief about it.
I have always said that being from Minnesota and growing up in the family that I grew up in requires me to hold the home teams dear to my heart, unwaveringly. My family is a fiercely loyal family. This is not hyperbole. Fiercely loyal. To one another, to our faith, to our jobs and also to our teams.
Being a Minnesota sports fan is similar to getting kicked in the seeds by an incredibly beautiful woman: it's a hurt that is unlike anything else, but at least she's beautiful.
I said in a previous post that Saturday October 10, 2003 was the most painful sports day of my life. And it was... until October 9, 2004.
I suppose I was lucky. I was working through the Gophers second collapse to Michigan in two years and the Twins second collapse to the Yankees in two days. I wasn't as involved in either loss as I have been involved with some other collapses in Minnesota sports.
But the way that I felt on Saturday night (and felt all day on Sunday right up until the Vikings pulled out the game against Houston) is the epitome of how Jeff and I are different when it comes to cheering for our teams. I had to stand in disbelief in front of the television at work and watch the Wolverines carry off the Little Brown Jug again. I've said it before, this is not a rational way for an otherwise normally functioning human being to act, but watching that affected me deeply. It hurts. It honestly hurts. And it's the type of sports hurt that I just don't believe a person who isn't from the area of the team they call themselves loyal to can truly feel.
Once again, after Saturday, I couldn't call my cousin, I couldn't call my uncle and I didn't want to talk about it at all. They didn't call me either. When I saw on my caller i.d. later that night that Jeff was calling I didn't even want to answer (thanks for not mentioning it Jeff).
But I got an email from my cousin and I have to share some of the things that he said, because I can't say it better myself. Here's what you need to know about my cousin Josh: he is the second coolest person you could ever meet (besides me of course), he is as loyal to Minnesota teams as I am, and he is currently living in Tucson, AZ working in the desert with reptiles. If I was hurting after Saturday he was living in some sort of sports hell. Here are two snippets of what his email said.
About being far away:
"After two very heartbreaking losses, I find myself surrounded by people who are wishy-washy fans at best, and fans of the opposing team at worst. I spent what had potential to be one of the biggest days in recent Minnesota sports history walking around, 2,000 miles away, in the desert surrounded by cacti, and tortoises, and people who barely even know that Minnesota is a state. What's worse, these people are mostly unaware of the games football and baseball, let alone would they have any awareness whatsoever of the Gophers or Twins. These people were capable of offering no consolation, let alone any respect for the pain I was experiencing."
About the feeling of the day:
"I have never felt so alone in all my life. Standing on the shores of a flooded canyon, no other person in sight (at least none that cared). My eyes actually filled with tears for a moment as I slowly walked along the ridge toward the pontoon where the rest of my research team was sitting, laughing, eating lunch in the shade. Nobody there could have known just how awful I was feeling. And then a terrible day got worse. Later on Saturday afternoon, after enthusiastic calls about what appeared to be a Twins victory over the Yankees, I sat on my hotel bed, watching as my Twinkies went 3 up 3 down in extra innings to lose, yet again, to the the damn Yankees. It was lemon juice in a gaping wound. I love my Twins and Gophers. What's more, I love my Gopher family. It broke my heart that I could not be there with you, or that I could not even talk on the phone during the high times of the game. It breaks my heart that I could not punch walls with you and curse and sit in angry silence while we all coped with our loss. These silly little sports teams play a bigger role in my life than I could have ever imagined."
Rational? No. But this is what it feels like.