Game On

My good wife Karen knows about lots of stuff. But sports is not her department. In fact, the last sporting event --- televised or otherwise --- she watched occured when I forced her to watch the final four minutes of our alma matar's victory over USC. She's thanked me for making her watch as it may have been a top ten moment ever in the history of organized football.

So about an hour ago, I get this call:

Good Karen: "Hey. I just got offered two Maverick tickets. I'm not sure if we should go?"

john_clarke: "Are you kidding? That's game four of a playoff series! We want to go!"

Good Karen: "Who are they playing?"

john_clarke: "The San Antonio Spurs. You know the world champion San Antonio Spurs? We want to go!"

Good Karen: "Well . . . . ."

I explained to her the significance of this game in mathmatic terms --- NBA playoffs series can go to seven games, Dallas has already won two, they've been strong against the Spurs, all of which was like talking to a fish about shoes.

Finally, she was lobbied by another person who is not me to go.

And that, my friends, is how Good Karen and myself will themselves watching the best sports franchise in Dallas get just a little bit closer to an NBA Championship.

And who knows --- maybe, just maybe, tonight's experience may be so revolutionary that the Good Karen's television viewing habits are forever shaken, so much that Sex in the City reruns are abandoned for backboard shattering matchups of NBA powerhouses.

Um, fish, shoes. Scratch that.

At least it's a good night out with the lovely Good Karen.