Last night we went over to my sister-in-law's house to watch the Superbowl. Heather, Kristin, Irene, and I decided we couldn't handle an entire football game (Heather stated she didn't think she'd have enough blood pressure medication to cover it), so we played Hand and Foot instead. Hand and Foot is like Canasta, I guess, but since I've never played either before last night, I couldn't really tell you.
The whole time we're playing, we can hear the rest of the family screaming, "WHAT?!?!!!!" and "NOOOOOOOOO" and "YES! HA!! YEAH!!!!" and I realized just how emotionally invested I was in the football game. Which is funny, because I seriously don't understand football, and pretty much the only thing I knew was that Kurt Warner is a good man and the Cardinals have never gotten this far before. And that Pittsburgh is where they make steel.
So every time I hear a reaction from the people actually watching, my ears perk up, my heart races a little, and I end up making a dumb mistake in the game I'm playing, like forgetting to put down my 3's or not realizing my partner has jacks, and it gets me thinking...
I am not good with witnessing failure. I think that maybe I allow others losses to project onto me, causing me to lose bigger than them. I did this all the time when I ran track junior high school. I felt so bad for the girl who would come in last, so I purposefully ran slower than her. That way, she had someone to feel bad for. Like, "Oh at least I'm not Renee." After a while, I forgot what it was like to try at all. When I actually wanted to win, I couldn't. I had psyched myself out of succeeding, because I was too focused on not letting others fail. Last chair in high school orchestra, first one out in 6th grade spelling bee... it's all explained.
Last night I could feel that the Cardinals weren't going to pull it out. And I lost big, because in some part of my brain, that made sense. Thy couldn't lose alone. When the Cardinals got their first touchdown, Heather and I jumped ahead in the game. Then someone got punched in the face, and any hope of puling out the victory on our end was gone. We were dragged across the dirt, losing the game 10,000 to less than 3,500.
Yes, I lost that game of Hand and Foot last night, because I couldn't let those Cardinals go down alone. At least, that's the story I'm going with. Kristin and Irene, you have no team spirit or empathy, and you should be ashamed of yourselves, winning so big.