Orange you glad it's Friday?

I officially have 423 things on my to do list, hence why I've completely abandoned my blog.  I'm sorry blog.  I'm sorry Internet friends.  I promise to rededicate myself to writing blogs about nothing in particular soon.  I have lots of topics to cover, such as why does Ann Curry dress like a 12 year old, and of course, my new nemesis.  But for now, I just want to briefly talk about my first love, Cowboy basketball.

Today is the 11 year anniversary of the plane crash that took 10 Cowboys from us.  This day always makes me sad. I suppose it always will.  I remember exactly where I was when I found out.  My mom and I were in the Denver airport coming back from Arizona.  I bought a paper and it was on the front page.  I burst into tears immediately.  The more I read, the harder I cried.  I instantly wondered if my friend was on the plane, since his father often flew the team.  My friend was not, but his father was.  For some reason, I felt like losing Bill Teegins was like losing a member of my family.  He was just so familiar...I felt like I knew him.

I have loved Cowboy basketball for as long as I can remember.  My first memory of going to games was when I was eight.  Our seats were at the very top of Gallagher Iba, when it still had those octagon windows you could open if it got too stuffy inside.  I've been hooked ever since.  I've always felt like I've known the team.  You can see their emotions, you learn the rotation, you know who your sixth man is, who the sharp shooter is, who the emotional leader is.  You can see it on their faces.  There is nothing like it.  So when the plane crash happened, I felt like something happened to my friends.  When my friends hurt, I hurt.

Sure, it's silly for me to think of them as my friends.  But I think silly things all the time.  It's kind of my "thing."  I tweet with players on this year's team, and I have no doubt they think, "Who is this middle aged lady who keeps tweeting us?  Does she even know who Lil Wayne is?"  For the record, I do know who he is.  I'm down.  I'm hip.  And it's no secret that "becoming best friends with Eddie Sutton" is close to the top of my bucket list.  Cowboy basketball is part of who I am.  It's in my soul.

On Wednesday, I debated about whether or not to drive to Stillwater for the game.  I honestly didn't really have time for it.  But the inner irrational fan in me pushed me into the car.  As I said to Husband, "Do you know how angry I will be if we win and I'm not there?  I'll never forgive myself."  So we went.  And I yelled so loud I got light headed.  I booed the officials so loudly, the child in front of me was frightened.  I'm a very good boo-er.  I jumped out of my seat no less than 15 times, and I threw my arms up in excitement after every three-pointer, five times to be exact.  It was so loud.  It was awesome.

As Husband and I drove home to OKC, I said, "I know I say this every season, but there is nothing I love more than Cowboy basketball.  I really, really love it."  Husband said with a smile, "I know you do."  Then I said, "You know, when it's loud like that and we get a big win, there is just nothing better.  There is nothing in my life that makes me happier than that....nothing in our marriage compares to Gallagher Iba Arena."  He burst into laughter, which made me feel okay with my statement.  Because let's be honest, it's true.

Okay, I'm off to be productive.  Go Pokes.

And now for the Sports Report

Howdy Doody, party people!  Try not to get too distracted by this amazing photo I've chosen to accompany this blog.  If you recall, I am privy to some pretty stellar pictures due to a smart purchase I made last summer.  This picture was found in the "sports" folder.  I was unaware goalies wore eye black.  There is so much I don't know.

College football is over.  Sigh.  Granted, it's been over for me since the Fiesta Bowl came to an end and the Stanford band quit playing.  Wait just a second...I'm getting word that they are actually still in Glendale making noise. Anywho, once the Cowboys wrapped up a victory and my brother and I Tebowed in celebration, the season, as far as I could see was over.  But there was the obligatory "championship" game played last night.  Here are my simple observations:

1. When you don't have more than TWO offensive playmakers between the two teams, it isn't fun to watch.  I don't care what you say.  BOR-ING.  I'm not even sure that either team fields wide receivers.  That is not Big-Boy Football, that is Makes-Kathy-Sleepy Football.
2. Kirk Herbstreit, you are crazy.  Cray-Cray, as the kids say.  I mean, for real.  Are people putting you up to saying the things you say?  They have to be.  You can't honestly say, "I've been really impressed with A.J. McCarron tonight," with a straight face.  At the time of the statement, the guy had no touchdowns, and hadn't gotten his team past the LSU 30.  That's not impressive.  I'm guessing with that criteria, you were also impressed with my quarterbacking skills.  You are such a silly goose.
3. Next year, I propose the BCS sticks with "conference champions" playing for the title game.  Sure, it's not fair to the SEC team who thinks they should be there, but as my father told me when I was eight years old: Life isn't fair.

Moving on...can we all get behind the Cowboy basketball team, please?  It may be hard for some of you to believe, but I actually love basketball more than football.  It's true.  It's my first love.  Then of course comes Husband, and Mr. Bojangles.  I suppose my love for basketball stems from the fact that I actually played at one point.  Granted, I was terrible and my career was short lived, but that's not the point.  I learned this week that you can identify yourself with anything you used to do.  For example, I used to take ballet until I was in 4th grade.  I shall now think of myself as a former ballerina.  I also used to carry around a Fisher Price tape recorder and make my own radio show.  The name of the show?  KMH, Rockin' with Hits.  You can now refer to me as, Kathy: former ballerina, radio host, and  basketball All-Star.  Sheesh, talk about well-rounded.

Anyway, I encourage all of you to get behind this team.  They are fun to watch, most of the time, and I've learned that if you scream, "REBOUND!" often enough, they start to listen.

And finally, let's chat just a second about wrestling.  It makes me borderline irate when people who don't know anything about wrestling try to tell me Iowa is the best wrestling program in the nation.  On more than one occasion, I have actually been scoffed at when I state that, in fact Oklahoma State is the best.  Scoffing at Kathy is a BAD idea.  I then rattle off factoids and pummel said offenders with my words.  Just take my word for it people, Oklahoma State is King, Iowa is Prince.  But not Crown Prince, just Prince.  Like Prince Harry. 

We watched this Saturday, via the internet as OSU took on Iowa in Iowa.  Kudos to those fans, what a great environment.  Made it that much sweeter to walk away with a win.  I will say this, watching wrestling stresses me out.  My heart literally races, and not in a Remington Park feel-good sort of way.  More like a, "how can two minutes seem like an eternity and why can't he escape and I think I'm going to pass out" sort of way. You should check out a dual this season, this team is VERY good.

That's all for now, back to you Herbie.