Sunday, Poopy Sunday

1/12/10 -- I'm half Irish, I have a long memory.

Patriot fans remember this guy?? Good 'ole Pete Carroll. The Fat Tuna bailed on the team prior to the crappy Super Bowl in New Orleans where Fav-rah and his Packers were coronated. So the Krafts hire Pete. The Globe complains that Pete is soft compared to Parcells (isn't every coach not named "Coughlin?"). Disaster ensues, despite inheriting a fairly good football team. For me, the memorable moment from Pete's turn as Pats coach was Shannon Sharpe of the Broncos on the phone, calling for the Army, the Marines, the National Guard - "somebody show up and help because we are KILLING the Patriots."

Godspeed, Seattle fans. There's always the hope that he learned how to coach an NFL team whilst he was at USC. And, admittedly, he has been a fine collegiate coach.

FAILURE is the word of the day.

First of all, Jack insured the weekend was urine-soaked (isn't that the very definition of a good weekend, at a certain point in life?) and there was poop. This was the backdrop to a stunning weekend of NFL action that left me, in point of fact, feeling crappy.

Saw "Up in the Air" on Friday night and suggest to anyone reading this (though I have no

"followers" and shall not take this personally or as a referendum upon my poor writing skills) that you do the same. A movie for grownups with brains is rare these days, as "we" seem to prefer spectacles of CGI delirium (but, "avatar" was good). A nice night, that Friday night.

Saturday began at 5:30 with a decision: to take one child to hockey far away or two children to skate close by. I took the 2, one of whom is my 3-yr. old potty trainee. I get Camille on the ice in full hockey gear (no easy feat) and Jack announces he's wet. Oops. And who neglected to bring a change? Yup.

So he remained wet until I could get him home from his skating lessons.

piss freezes, if you were curious

Yes, I already have broken my resolution. I yelled, punched the truck, and he collapsed in a conciliatory heap in the freezing cold as I ranted. So........sigh......back to the drawing board.

Saturday was littered with urine. I think he wet two more outfits when he forgot to use the potty. Again, he was upset, so the parental shaming was minimal.

Sunday I think he went through 3 outfits. Sometime during the 4th quarter of the Ravens-Pats game he trundled upstairs and said "I'm poopy." Inspiration - in the form of the title to this entry - was immediate. Yuck.

Which brings me to football. I hate the Dallas Cowboys as a football team, not as people. I know the Cowboy fans are happy and they deserve to be. So, too, do fans of the Jets, Ravens, and Cardinals (are you like me? Aren't Cardinal games great? You never know if you'll get 0 points or 1, 000. Kind of cool).

I, sadly, am a Patriot fan.

Pats fans are often also Red Sox fans, and longtime Pats fans know that yesterday's spanking by the now-superior Ravens is business as you remember it. That team that won 3 titles? Those weren't the Patriots. Brady morphed into Steve Grogan. Laurence Maroney was ......????? Gone. There was no Andre Tippett. The Patriots weren't any good. Did I ever mention that I was the only kid in Lisbon Elementary school (in Lisbon, Md.) with a Patriots sweatshirt? No? I was rountinely made fun of (my grandma was a native of Worcester, Mass.). The Pats were LOSERS.

The Pats teams from 2001 to 2006 were smashmouth teams that ran first and punished with defense. Those 2007-8 Pats? Pretty boys. Scored tons of points. But they were soft, like the Rams in 2001. The Giants punched out their teeth in the 2008 Super Bowl and they were exposed as such. All those points and all that flash 'n dash was a one-year anomaly for them. ANOMALIES FAIL. The Super Bowl Pats, if you recall, were scrappy little teams who squeaked out wins against St. Louis, Carolina, and Philly. Brady was a scrappy QB. Now he's Peyton Manning Lite.

Maybe, Pats fans, they'll pull it together next year. At least they have a good coach and QB, if he can stay healthy.

Eat one, Peyton.

I dislike the Colts (like I do the Ravens) for moving from Baltimore to Indianapolis. But I really dislike Golden Boy Manning. Too much polish. Too ready for prime time and the cameras. I prefer the vinegary Phillip Rivers, and his cannon of an arm. Plus (and this is very gay to say) I like lightning bolts. As a kid, I had football wallpaper and always dug the bolts. This coincided with my being about 10, and enjoying AC/DC's music, Dan Fouts' on-field exploits, and Metallica's "Ride the Lightning."

That does sound very gay. Whatever. I'm, like, 10 percent gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

So my weekend ended with a hockey game that began before the Cardinals game ended. So I missed the shootout. I wish NFL playoffs were like the NHL or baseball, where there's a best-of-series. I could've watched Pittsburgh and Arizona play a three game set. Same with Green Bay and Arizona. Perhaps Arizona and anyone, right now. They're more fun than the sucky Ravens (really, Joe Flacco? 31 yards???) or (ugh) Cowboys (I refuse to mention the word "Redskins" in this blog until August).

So....

my team lost a playoff game. My kid was practically incontinent for the entire weekend. I was up early both days. The silver lining?

IT CAN'T RAIN ALL THE TIME.