themole
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- Aug 31, 2011
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Back in 2013 I was able to see SU"s S16 and E8 games in person, complete with UVa frat boys yelling "Dance, round man, dance!"
Suffice it to say those guys, wherever they were Sunday, were not yelling that this time.
My Elite 8 experience this time was a wee bit different but no less memorable. I am on a long-planned family trip to San Francisco with our 5 year old son and almost 3 year old daughter (who was born the weekend of the 2013 FF on the 10 year anniversary of the 2003 title). We had planned to meet friends who live in Monterey at the Exploratorium on Sunday, and it was evident it would be too much to ask the spouse to keep track of both kids at a crowded public place while I ran off for the UVa game. But heck if I was going to check score updates on my phone during the whole thing. So we compromised and I went to our hotel room instead of a bar...and brought our daughter with me. In theory, she would nap during part of the game.
She played with Paw Patrol and princess figures while I watched. The first half got depressing but she kept me cheery with her questions and eventual complaints that "Daddy I don't want to watch soccer!" (She thinks basketball is soccer and that tennis is basketball, and so on.) During halftime she began singing a song and I asked her to be quieter so I could hear whatever Barkley was spouting off about. "NO I don't WANT to be quiet!"
After the second half began, she demanded that we go outside. I briefly considered taking her up on it. Thank goodness I did not.
As the comeback began, I was sitting on the floor with her, trying to keep her slightly occupied. I stood up and Uva immediately scored, so naturally I had to sit down again. I remained so for much of the rest of the game, and only reluctantly stood up at one point to retrieve Cinderella from the bowels of a bedsheet. She wandered off to a corner to play by herself, but started saying "Daddy what is wrong?" as I started yelping and trying not to curse in front of her. I told her the basketball game was crazy. She asked if we could watch Mickey instead. "You are out of your -- holy crap Malachi!"
Thankfully it was only late afternoon in California so I didn't feel overly constrained in how loud I got, despite having chided the kids earlier for their in-room volume. As with everyone else, I shrieked with each score, and my girl kept asking me if "Daddy is ok now." I told her I kept feeling better. I clapped after a few shots and she asked if she could clap too.
I also jumped up and down a few times near the end, which is also something we had banned from the hotel room. Such a hypocrite I am.
I tried to get her to shout "Dance, round man, dance!" But she shrieked in protest as if I was trying to change her diaper. We will continue to work on this important issue.
After it was over, I needed some high-fives. My little girl's little hands would just have to do.
She never did get that nap in.
Suffice it to say those guys, wherever they were Sunday, were not yelling that this time.
My Elite 8 experience this time was a wee bit different but no less memorable. I am on a long-planned family trip to San Francisco with our 5 year old son and almost 3 year old daughter (who was born the weekend of the 2013 FF on the 10 year anniversary of the 2003 title). We had planned to meet friends who live in Monterey at the Exploratorium on Sunday, and it was evident it would be too much to ask the spouse to keep track of both kids at a crowded public place while I ran off for the UVa game. But heck if I was going to check score updates on my phone during the whole thing. So we compromised and I went to our hotel room instead of a bar...and brought our daughter with me. In theory, she would nap during part of the game.
She played with Paw Patrol and princess figures while I watched. The first half got depressing but she kept me cheery with her questions and eventual complaints that "Daddy I don't want to watch soccer!" (She thinks basketball is soccer and that tennis is basketball, and so on.) During halftime she began singing a song and I asked her to be quieter so I could hear whatever Barkley was spouting off about. "NO I don't WANT to be quiet!"
After the second half began, she demanded that we go outside. I briefly considered taking her up on it. Thank goodness I did not.
As the comeback began, I was sitting on the floor with her, trying to keep her slightly occupied. I stood up and Uva immediately scored, so naturally I had to sit down again. I remained so for much of the rest of the game, and only reluctantly stood up at one point to retrieve Cinderella from the bowels of a bedsheet. She wandered off to a corner to play by herself, but started saying "Daddy what is wrong?" as I started yelping and trying not to curse in front of her. I told her the basketball game was crazy. She asked if we could watch Mickey instead. "You are out of your -- holy crap Malachi!"
Thankfully it was only late afternoon in California so I didn't feel overly constrained in how loud I got, despite having chided the kids earlier for their in-room volume. As with everyone else, I shrieked with each score, and my girl kept asking me if "Daddy is ok now." I told her I kept feeling better. I clapped after a few shots and she asked if she could clap too.
I also jumped up and down a few times near the end, which is also something we had banned from the hotel room. Such a hypocrite I am.
I tried to get her to shout "Dance, round man, dance!" But she shrieked in protest as if I was trying to change her diaper. We will continue to work on this important issue.
After it was over, I needed some high-fives. My little girl's little hands would just have to do.
She never did get that nap in.
