Trading in my heels for cleats: Part II - There's No Place Like Home

Music: Young MC "Bust a Move" and then Debbie Gibson "Electric Youth"
Mood: Happy, Excited and a wee bit Anxious

I can see you. Scratching your head, scrunching up your nose and squinting your eyes saying "Heels, cleats, no place like home? Is this post going to be some sort of marriage between sports and The Wizard of Oz?" Don't put that past me. I could write a quick lil diddy about munchkins and winged monkeys playing arena football, IF you would like.

In my last post I introduced you to the new me. The new college football (JPW) lovin' me. Several years ago as my passion for college football was ignited, my interest in some other sports grew too. Don't get it twisted. I don't sit around watching ESPN by choice, oh, actually sometimes I do. I don't pray for my favorite teams to win. Well, maybe once. And I definitely don't cry when my team loses. Actually I do. And THAT is what we'll be discussing today.

It was the fall of 2007, and I'm living in GA. The Cleveland Indians were playing The Boston Red Sox in Game 7 of the American League Championship Series. With a win that night, the Cleveland Indians would be going to the World Series. Please join me in a pause for dramatic effect.... I'm not sure why I was watching the game in our bedroom instead of in the living room, but by my guesstimation I am sure it was because Ken was watching a football game. I'd even carried the ironing board into our small bedroom so I could iron my work clothes for the next day as I watched the baseball game. As I stopped ironing to watch some play in the game that could make it or break it for the Indians, I looked into my pink Hello Kitty tv, hoping for the best. So what happened?


Let's rewind. In January of 2007 my heart first broke when the annoying Florida Gators killed our Ohio State Buckeyes in the 06' Football National Championship game. (I blamed that Tebow character. He inflicted losses on his enemies. But he loves him some Jesus, so I was somewhat torn.)

Come on! I'm a Bama fan. What picture did you think I was gonna post?

              * In the spring of 2012, Tebow said in front of a crowd of Christ lovin Chrisitans, that he loved me. This is not a lie. This is very true. Ask Aimee. He didn't say I love you - as in the crowd or Jesus. But me. Only me. Not you. Just sayin'...*

Noah obviously has anger issues.

Then April rolled around. After all that March Madness hugabaloo, that I cared diddly squat about, The Buckeyes faced The Florida Frickin Gators, in the NCAA Men's Basketball Championship game. (Do you guys know how my heart is racing right now?) Come on Buckeyes. Please Buckeyes. My heart cried out to the young college boys and Buckeye gods. We didn't win. (I blame Joakim Noah. He made me mad. All that unruly hair just a rippin' and a railin' through the air, blinding my sweet Buckeyes.) I remember a sadness taking over me.

This brings us back to October 2007. Me, the Hello Kitty TV, and the ironing board, all with fingers crossed. I don't recall the play that caused the Indians to be shut down but I remember my emotions in the moment that I knew that the Indians had lost the game. Chunks gathered in my throat and tears in my eyes, and then, I just broke the hell down. My heart broke for my city. My heart broke for my state. Broken, my heart ached for my home.  And ya'll, I was really crying hard. So much so that my husband came upstairs to see what was wrong with his wife, slumped over the ironing board.

Why can't you be doin all that #Winning now?

Between sniffles and ugly face crying I blurted out "First it was the football game, then the basketball game, and now this. And I'm not going to even bring up the Browns. Damn Gators! Damn Red Sox. Damn Florida Marlins! (Yeah I pulled up the 1997 World Series loss too.) We never get a chance! We never get to win. Why don't we ever get to win?" I was truly aching and filled with sadness. Although I now lived in Georgia, Ohio, CLEVELAND (Heights), Ohio was home. And for all the crap the nation wanted to give us about some measly lake fire and Indians curse, it was still truly the best place on earth. And it was home. And there is no place like home.

Me as a young Brown's fan. (Before gravity and breastfeeding took affect.)

I do not feel as happy as I did when I first started typing this post. I am remembering that moment and how sad I was. But you know what? I am PROUD! I am proud to be from Ohio! I am proud to be from Cleveland Heights, Ohio! I am BLESSED to be from Cleveland Heights, Ohio!!!! And to the rest of the world, who can continue withholding awards from our trophy cases, or taking talents to sunny Miami frickin' Florida, bite me on my buckeye shaped booty! There is no place like home.

Here the whole state of Florida is represented by the wicked witch's green hands.

Trading in my heels for cleats: Part I - So it begins...

Music: Jamiroquai "Canned Heat" - only my fave song everrrrrr!
Mood: Happy, Grateful, Optimistic

That's right. You read it right! I am in a pretty gosh darn swell mood right now! I am so sure that listening to the best song ever composed is adding to my feeling so marvelous. But I also know that since I've been non-stop talking to God the past 24 hours, I feel less stressed and more BLESSED!!!! What! Yep. I know what you're thinking, after I just rhymed those two words together...
You: Brooke, you should be a....
Me: .........................................RAPPER!
You: .........................................................Poet...

Oh. No? Okay. Agree to disagree.

As I struggled for today's topic I thought I should talk about something that means alot to me. My family, my job, my pantry? No. College football! Now I know you SOOO just spit your Sprite out of the large glass you were drinking it from, as the record also skips and Kanye West interrupts yet another speech on live tv, but calm down. This girly chic said it and meant it.

Growing up in Cleveburg I was a Browns fan, duhhh. Yet, I wasn't a football fan. I really had no idea what was really going on on the field, except for touchdowns. I knew that winter meant Daddy was wearing his old school Browns wintery hat that had that fuzzy yarn ball on top. I knew that  the Dawg Pound barked alot and sometimes wore face paint. And I knew my first grade teacher may have mentioned something about collecting dog bones that had been thrown on the field, after games, and taken them to her doggy at home. (Not gonna lie, that memory is a little blurry.)

When I got to OSU, Thee Ohio State University, I really cared less about being a Buckeye. I had negative school spirit. I loathed game day Saturdays because the Buckeye fans started drinking and blasting marching band music VERY EARLY in the morning and I was still hung over from the night before. Butttt, I loved game day nights cause we partied! Hard! I knew little about the OSU/Michigan rivalry but it was still engrained in my brain (I'm a rapper, see) to think "Muck Fichigan!"

After leaving Ohio and meeting the man of my dreams, in Georgia, my life began to change, one Saturday at a time. Ya see, this man was and is a hard core Bama fan. Huh? What and a who, you might be thinking if you were like me. The University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, AL. I had ZERO clue who that was or where that was, nor did I care. But like clockwork, every Saturday during the first fall that I spent with my boyfriend, Ken, he was glued to the tv. Supposedly Bama had some great history. Supposedly they were good at like, winning championship games or something. (Whatever those were). Supposedly they'd had some great coach who was like the bees knees or whatever...

As I watched Ken decorate his then bedroom with crimson paint and tons of framed pictures of Championship winning teams, I started thinking "maybe there is something to this whole Bama Roll Tide thing I'm hearing of. I mean I know my boyfriend has lots of energy, but he is meticuloussly painting this room with that crimson paint."

By the fall of 2004, I was on the couch, right next to Ken, watching The Crimson Tide. Ken would always enjoy teaching me about the sport and I would, in the beginning, enjoy seeing those shiny sleek pants hug those football players' behinds. Now back then, in 04', it was a tough time being a Bama fan. They ended the season 6-6 and were a far cry from the INCREDIBLE team they are today, (and have been the past few years.)

Me and the husband at my first Bama game, 08'!

One day in the fall of 2005, as I was just a living my life, watching Bama beat the crap out of the South Carolina Game Cocks, Bama's second string quarterback came in to play. Wait. Who was this? His eyes, that hair, those bangs. I remember it like this (and it is possible that this memory has been altered): Coach calls him in. He stands off the bench and begins to walk slowly towards the field. Suddenly 80s music starts playing "I just died in your arms tonight." - and in slow motion he flips his huge Justin Beiber bangs out of his face and puts his helmet on. He's ready. On the field, in his first moment to shine....he throws a touchdown pass and simultaneously wins my heart!!!! His name, is John Parker Wilson.

John Parker, because he prefers for me to call him that, became my greatest reason to continue watching Bama play. And sometimes, I'd watch other teams too cause that meant more time with my man, (Ken not John Parker), and because I really started loving the game.

Me and JPW, hanging out, AGAIN.

Now, many Ohioans may be freaking out like "Brooke, where is your allegiance to Thee Ohio State University?" Listen now my dear friends wearing scarves and wool mittens, I will always be a Buckeye in my heart. It just happens that I married into a Bama loving family, and because of the joint efforts of The Crimson Tide and John Parker Wilson and his bangs, I love to watch The Tide role over every oponet on game day.

I am realizing that this post is getting quite lengthy and I haven't even chosen what pics of JPW (John Parker Wilson) I will post yet! Hmm, I think I will need to break this up into two posts....

I need to say something. I am very nervous about what will happen in January of 2014. It will be a Monday night, the time will be about 8:30 pm and Ohio State will be battling The Crimson Tide in the 2013 NCAA College Football Champtionship game. How do I know that? Well, Bama is the best. (Don't even try to get a word in Georgia Bulldogs, grown folks are talkin'). And this past year The Buckeyes were undefeated BUT were on stupid face probation so they couldnt' play any bowl games. Next year, those Buckeyes will be on fire. Under Coach Urban Meyer, who I used to hate but now love him, like, a lot, they are sure to  stay at the top. And Bama, well, Coach Saban. I don't have to say anymore.

Who will I root for? Where will my allegiance lie? Will I dress up as a buckeye or an elephant? I guess you will have to wait until January 2014 to find out. I already know. But you don't.

Which leads me into my next post: There's No Place Like Home.