I was feeling rather giddy a few days ago, although at the same time, I was slow getting up. I didn'tget the chance to pinch myself until I began to blog this. Hours before, I saw my Long Beach Satte softball team methodically dismantly then-undefeated, #5-ranked Florida, 2-1 in 10 innings. It's not very often that I getr to see any Long Beach team outside of men's volleyball beat a Top 5 opponent, so this win was extra special. As I said, it's going to be monster momentum as they face the Wahine again to start the UNLV Tournament. Hey, evening the score doesn't look too bad, now. They can take that.
After I went to Chipotle to wolf down another burrito from another day at ROP, I did some house-cleaning on campus. Anime Club T-Shirt purchase order processed: check. Tickets from the past couple days of action recorded: check. Materials for UCI bus trip ready: check.And so we were off.
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So, this African marathon guy with a bald spot comes over and tells me I can't use my bat to accompany the foot stomping on our side of the Bren Events Center. He's the black analogue to Micol Coppock. We talked a little bit, his background about his family, it's-not-about-Long Beach State -and-UCI crap, and every other lame [sic] attempt to get some sympathy from me. Well, in spite of an effort that Hillary Clinton in New Hampshire could equal, it went one ear and out the other.
Apparently, this guy has NOT been to our Walter Pyramid. And he does not realize that the atmosphere there is louder than the Bren Events Center by a country mile. At the Myd, this type of stomping is the norm. He'd best stay out of our way because that's how we do it, no matter where we are.
Might as well consider a flight back, if his wife and kids are his biggest priority. Actually, I recommend it. Humph.
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I so hoped the men won their game. I would have forgiven the guy telling me about his life-story. Instead, the Great Hoopspression of 2008 continued for the guys, and I have no love lost for the green card flasher. Maybe not until our men's volleyball team finishes the deal down there on the 27th.
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I think now I should hold off on the Chipotle. When the day ended, I ate three burritos from Chipotle (one carnitas, two carne asada from the bus), a Monster, a Rockstar, a cup of green tea (my throat is going through torture), and a wry smile on my face.
All that was missing was the water. I took care of that when I got home.
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As the day ended, I had mixed feelings. But as the 94 went downtown and the 193 went northbound frm downtown, I just had a gut feelings things were going to look up the next day. Northridge has a nasty five-game win streak against us. It had to fall today. I just had to. In the Gold Mine.
Unfortunately, I couldn't be any more wrong. Northridge made it six straight
against us, and I was just sick to my stomach. I hurled my souvenir bat in
frustration, acknowledging that my guys were not going to be championship
material, and that I was revoking their Masters of LSV license.
That was also the first win in the Gold Mine in nearly two decades for the Matadors.
Alan Knipe and crew going to have to wake up and smell the roses. Pathetic sons-of-bitches couldn't get it done, and placate my already obvious lack of sanity. I need to order a straightjacket.
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I just heard that Cornell is the first team dancing into the tournament. Ironically, two years ago we beat these guys in the Walter Pyramid, and this was the same coach that coached this year's edition of the Big Red.
You lucky Ithaca bastards.
