Believe it or not, I'm actually watching the Rose Bowl this evening. I do not usually spend my time watching sporting events. I occasionally tune in for a minute here or there of a college game that I find of interest, but I can usually find something more important to do. LIke watch the grass grow in the front yard. (Just kidding, sports fans.) I'm just not a sporty person.
And I also am of the opinion that I'm a jinx. It seems like every time I actually try to watch a game (usually a college bowl), the team I'm rooting for gets stomped in the ground. I watched Texas get slaughtered by Notre Dame so many years in the Cotton Bowl that I completely lost interest in what was going on in the college football arena. But it's been a long time since Texas was in the running for No. 1, so here I sit, hoping that I'm not ruining their chances by daring to watch the game.
Hell was already beginning to get a little frosty for other reasons. For years I have avoided doctors, only dragging myself in when it absolutely could not be avoided. And yet, this week I have voluntarily seen both a chiropractor and a podiatrist. I'm beginning to get a hint that the chiropractor may get my poor back whipped into shape. I'm optimistic that my feet will soon feel better, too. In both cases, I was blaming arthitis and in both cases, it turns out that I actually had physical damage causing the pain. So much for self-diagnosis.
Now Hell will surely freeze over if the doctor decides I need cortisone shots in my feet and I actually let him follow through. I don't do needles. I'm a little uneasy, because he looks big enough to sit on me if need be. I'm hoping that the medication he's prescribed does the trick and we don't have to find out.
Well, wonders never cease. And you can teach an old dog new tricks. But right at the moment, it doesn't look like Texas is going to pull it off, so I may have to swear off football again. It's just not in the cards for me to root for a winning team, I guess.