Sunday Morning Coffee Love

Yes, it has been a while since I posted one of these. I miss ’em. Almost as much as I miss strip clubs. Okay, I miss these posts way more than strip clubs. Seeing as how these posts are free, and they don’t contain glitter. Not to mention those Kodak snapshots that defy justification.

This post is just because. The just because that happens to be the life we’re busy living up. The life that happens in sways and sorrows . . all the way up to the “Duh” moment when you actually, croak.

I watched the first half of the Panthers/Seahawks clash last night, rooting up Cam Newton and his Panthers. If only because I love underdogs. Now, I realize my New York Yankees do not fall into the underdog category, but hey, that’s not my fault. I was born in the Bronx, Fort Apache . . . 1966. That right there would be enough to gain me entry into your understanding, but wait! There’s more, indeed. Mom is a Yankees fan. She grew up on Brooklyn logic before marrying a man- her first husband- whose pinstripes left her breathless enough to carry it into forever. Soooo, as you can plainly tell, my allegiance is as much a matter of survival as anything.

Anyways, when I woke up this morning, Lo? Had met behold. And youth had indeed been served, even if the result was totally predictable.

I would have taken a Panthers win as a sign. That anything’s possible. Instead, I was granted a different kind of reminder this morning, as I answered my red wine from the night before with some thick ass java and Bowie.

The reminder is a simple one. Miracles don’t just happen. They’re constructed over time. The Miracle on Ice didn’t happen deep inside the winter of 1980 in that old field house up in Lake Placid. And Joe Namath did a hell of a lot more than just predict an unpredictable outcome. Buster Douglas didn’t walk into Tokyo with Mr Miagi and knock Mike Tyson’s ass into the history books. Villanova had gone hot long before that night in Kentucky when they took down mighty Georgetown. These ‘upsets’, these perceived miracles, were really something else entirely. They were the byproducts of hard work, preparation, struggle, persistence and attitude. Built, not inside of one magical night, but a lifetime of unseen practice leading up to it.

The Panthers didn’t shock the world, because the Seahawks are just too damned good. Seattle also knew full well that anything short of their very best, and they’d be crying in their latte’s this morning. Because they understand the fallacy of all this miracle talk. They know that there’s really no such thing as an ‘upset’ at the highest level of the sport. Bring it or go home, that’s how it works.

I’m still a fool for the idea of surprise endings, and while that may not seem as sexy an idea as miracles and upsets, it’s still plenty fine with me. Because it means that the chances will always be in your favor, so long as you work hard and keep at it.

Anything’s possible.


27 thoughts on “Sunday Morning Coffee Love

  1. You are preaching to my choir, Cayman!

    Everyone in these parts thought the Royals heading to the World Series was beyond belief. I predicted it a couple of years ago when I saw the chemistry, the heart, and the hard work. It’s pure joy to see hard work pay off and it makes for great teaching opportunities for teenagers.

    Another beautiful piece of writing, my friend.

    “whose pinstripes left her breathless enough to carry it into forever.”

    Phrases like these make me warm all over.

    Muah 🙂

    • Colorado, not only are you sexy. You bring the knowledge. And NOW you’re bionic, which really…ain’t fair. But you’re right, Coach Brooks worked those boys into champions from day one. And while the result on that magical night turned the sporting world on its head- it was akin to an independent league team beating the San Francisco Giants- it was a result of all the work they put in leading up to that game.

      Fun fact: Did you know that game had been played earlier in the day? Yep. It was shown on tape delay, hours after the US team had already shocked the world. What a different time it was, huh?

  2. I didn’t see much of Saturday’s games, but watched Sunday pulling for Dallas and Denver because of Fantasy Football … otherwise, I don’t really care because my team is one and done.

        • As it turned out, Peyton was playing with an injury for the last month. Never said a thing about it. I hope he comes back. I wasn’t a Peyton fan early on, but as time has moved closer to his end, I know I’m going to miss the hell out of him when he decides it’s time to go.

  3. Duuuuuude I am an underdog lover by nature. Love the stories and you know what you’re completely right. It’s an accumulation of steps taken throughout your journey, of all the hard work and clear eyes full hearts mentality that pushed you through the odds. It’s like that overnight success story … Never really happened over night, more like years of hard work that nobody but you witnessed. Yup, love them both.

    • You’re the triathlete, you KNOW all the work that goes into preparing for that day. It’s all done in the quiet, away from all the cheering that keeps you moving when push meets shove and the finish line is calling your name, And yeah, Miracle is such a great flick. Mostly because it’s true shit. Those boys and their coach, they gave us a forever moment.

  4. I love this post even when I have no idea who these teams are. I read past Panthers and Seahawks, assuming it’s about football, but mostly just enjoying your way with words.

    I do know about the Miracle on Ice because my home town is near Lake Placid and we all thought it would be fun to see the Olympics, but it was winter and winter in the Adirondacks suck even under the best conditions and Route 3 from Star Lake to Lake Placid is a two(treacherous)-lane road.

    Like your song choice. I want to be (plan to be) forever young.

    Muah? What am I missing?

    • Wild Words,

      I knew you’d see past the box score. Yes, this post really had little to do with sports. But sports was something I could hitch a ride to and so, I did.

      Wow, you were so close and yet so very far from being there for the Miracle on Ice? It reminds me of when I was but a wee lad and my old man had tickets to the Super Bowl in Miami. And I said no! What in the fuck! Was I thinking? I never let my old man forget that one. It’s like “Fuck Pop! You made me do all manner of shit I didn’t want to do back then. But the one time I say no? You fucking agree? And it’s the Super Bowl?!” Granted, I probably wouldn’t have remembered much. But it STILL would’ve been a cool thing, to have been there. Whatevs.

      Love that song. Eighties kid. Plus Jay-Z. Boom, it’s my choice.

      And Muah? Refers to the Midwest variation on a cheeky monkey kiss. Us homies on the East Coast spell it Mwah! But Mama Mick and Susie are telling me that it’s Muah! And Sheriff, he’s telling me that Europe goes with Mvah! I’m gonna place a call to Tokyo, just for shits and giggles.

  5. Now that I know your mom is a Yankees fan, all is forgiven. I can’t hold anything against you knowing that you really had no choice in the matter. 😉 You know I’m just giving you a hard time. We’re gearing up for the big game later today, so I’m feeling frisky.

    Bahstahn xx

    • Hey Bahstahn,

      Being a mama yourself, I knew you’d understand my allegiance to the pinstripes.

      Yes. Big game for you guys today. Another big game. If it’s not the Patriots playing for the championship, it’s the Red Sox or Bruins winning it. Thank goodness the Celtics suck, otherwise you guys would have it all!

      Peace and love to you mama

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