Just the Way It Is

True story: It’s Wednesday night and I’m surfing the net. I happen upon the tee-times for the 2007 Masters, which begins the next morning. Suddenly, it hits me. I need to make a change. I need to stir the pot. I need to back a winner. So, leaning on my background as a suburban, conservative father-of-three, I decided to turn in my membership card to the Phil Mickelson fan club. I decided to no longer support the sometimes spectacular, often infuriating left-handed risk taker and hitch my rooting interest to the one guy I thought surely could win me a championship. That’s right. I turned to my wife and said, “Okay, if anyone asks, I’m a lifelong Tiger Woods fan.”

Sounds plausible, right? I could get used to saying I root for Tiger because then I could cheer when Tiger pulled on his fifth green jacket on Sunday. Despite the failures and shortcomings of my other “favorites”, I could have at least one “sure thing” in my pocket. I even considered calling my brother-in-law, who is ever faithful to any team or player with even the remotest of ties to Brigham Young University, and making the declaration official. I’m fairly certain the conversation would have gone something like this:

Me: Hey, I’ve changed allegiances. I’m rooting for Tiger Woods now. My guy is totally going to win the Masters.

Him: What? Why would you do such a thing? Have you considered the merits of Mike Weir? He played for the Cougars, you know! Did you know former BYU linebacker Rob Morris single-handedly won the Super Bowl for the Indianapolis Colts? With Danny Ainge running the Celtics, they’ll soon return to the NBA elite. Remember what he did to Notre Dame? Go Cougs!

Well, I didn’t make the call. But it didn’t matter. I knew I had done it. I had a winner. I could finally celebrate. I would be anxiously awaiting my Sports Illustrated with Mickelson, my new nemesis, helping Tiger into yet another green jacket. I was ready to start yelling, “You the man” after every Woods tee shot. I would buy red Nike gear to wear to Church on Sundays to celebrate Tiger in red walking up the 18th fairway. It would be the dawning of a new day in fandom for me. By Saturday night, I was getting ready to taunt my friends that supported lesser golfers. The conditions at Augusta were horrific and the field was in shambles. Despite playing less than stellar golf, they’d all come back to Tiger and he’d once again be in the final group on Sunday. It was his tournament. It was my tournament. I was sure of it.

Then reality returned to my world. Woods took the lead briefly on the front 9 and knocked in an incredible eagle on the back 9, but he never really made a significant charge. He never forced the other contenders to blink. He never got that intense look in his eyes that tells everyone the tournament is his. Nope. He didn’t do any of those things. You know what he did? He lost. He didn’t choke. He didn’t fall apart. He just lost. In other words, he played just like all my other favorites play when things matter. Somewhere between mediocre and crappy. Certainly this was just a fluke for Tiger! Those things happen, right? Oh, yes. They happen often. They happen with the kind of insidious frequency to the teams and players for whom I cheer, that I’ve been forced to turn to the fatalist’s mantra – that’s just the way it is. There’s nothing I can do to change it. Unless I jump off the Tiger bandwagon, his assault on Nicklaus’ major championship record is in dire straits.

However, despite this life altering realization, I’m not here to complain. I’m not here to scream. I’m not here to cry about bad plays or missed calls or if onlys. No, I’m here to make some money. I’m here to tell you that I have a business proposition for you. For only a nominal fee, I will become an ardent fan of your most hated rival. Can’t stand the Lakers? I’ll don a Kobe jersey and they’ll be out in the first round of the playoffs. Sick of Yankee dominance? I’ll sport the accent and start calling Mike and Mad Dog to tell them the Yanks are going to cruise to the World Series. Before you can say Derek Jeter, the Bronx Bombers will be dropping both ends of a double header with the Devil Rays. And, perhaps this little nugget. Are you a Buckeye? What if I grow my hair long, get a perm, tie it back in a crazy pony tail and start telling everyone how the Gator Boys are going to party like no one has ever seen before. That in itself could set Florida basketball back to peach baskets and granny shots!

That’s right. I’ve finally come to this important realization. It’s hit me and there is really no denying it. My teams don’t win – at least not championships. Next year is the 20 year anniversary of the last time any of my four favorite teams (Royals baseball, Chiefs pro football, Jayhawk basketball and BYU college football) won a major championship. That’s right. In 1988, Danny Manning took the Jayhawks to the title. It was the end of a phenomenal run for me. In 1985, George Brett and the Royals won the World Series. In 1984, Robbie Boscoe led the Cougars to an undefeated season and a national title. Granted, the Chiefs were pretty lousy back then, but it’s not like they’ve been to a Super Bowl since then, either – even with the great Joe Montana running the offense in the early 90s.

But, I’m not going to be down anymore. Nope, I’m looking to the future. I’m planning ahead. I’m hoping to pay for my children’s missions, college educations and weddings. Just let me know who you want me to back and they’ll fall on the kind of hard times that legends are made of. Together, we can do it! We can beat this thing. We can lose one for the Gipper! And don’t forget our new slogan – That’s Just the Way It Is!