A few weeks ago, I got to go to Madison Square Garden, to see my first ever women’s basketball game. (Yes, I got free tickets courtesy of the NBA. I’m pretty sure that they’re trying to recruit me to be one of the Knicks Chicks or something) It was super awesome, especially since my daughter’s best summer camp friend invited her to go with them to the same game (they had court side seats) and I got to say, really casually, “oh, we’ll be at the same game,” as if going to The Garden is a normal thing for us on a Thursday night. I didn’t mention that our seats were going to be not-courtside, but more aerial, because I don’t like to brag and didn’t want to make them feel like they had inferior seats where they could get splashed with lady sweat or get rhinoplastied by basketball.
So I tell my son that we’re going to see the game and he is super excited and then I tell him that it’s women’s basketball and his face sort of drops and for a second I think he’s going to put on a wifebeater and get a beer and start talking about “those dam feminazis”. But that doesn’t happen and soon he’s excited again.
The game itself is super fun. Especially because we got to buy a foam finger, which for some reason I thought only existed on The Simpsons. (Incidentally, the next day when mama and papa saw The Foam Finger, I overheard them say things like ‘no wonder this country is in trouble’. I wag my foam finger at their judgmentalness.)
Because I am super economical, I fed my kids dinner before we arrived at the Garden (you know, Madison Square Garden, not the Garden of Eden, nor the Garden of Good and Evil), so we wouldn’t have to spend money on snacks there, but unfortunately, I forgot to eat dinner myself. Husbandrinka went to get snacks and I asked him for a Pale Ale, because (i) this was before my alcohol break and (ii) apparently I mistook the Garden for a microbrewery or something. He came back with a Bud which made me feel all patriotic and shit.
The Liberty Ladies lost and as the writing was on the wall, or in their case, the scoreboard, Young Ladrinka asked if he could go on the court to help them out a bit. Nice. Of course I won’t mention that when Husbandrinka was telling me who the dominant player was and Young Ladrinka said “yes, the one who looks sort of mannish.”
I’m sorry that I’m not a basketball expert or anything, so I can’t do scintillating play by plays (she shoots, she scores!) but it was totally enjoyable. By the way, how come the foam finger comes in pointer only? I’d totally buy a thumb.
One year ago ...
- The Unthinkable - 2011