It is time for a sports vent. Jets vs Bears. Monday Night Football. National TV audience. As a resident of Chicagoland for 17 years, it's freaking huge. And all it took for me was two damn plays. After a 10-yard run by Geno Smith, along with a 15-yard Bears penalty, I got my ammunition. A bootleg left intercepted and returned for a touchdown. That was all it took. I said nothing. I didn't yell. I didn't curse. I just flipped the TV to wrestling and Ryder Cup coverage for the rest of the night.
I wish to God I knew nothing about sports. It has provided so much more pain than joy in my life. Especially when I think of some of the people I've interacted with in the last five years, including some of the people who root for my teams. They know who they are. But anyway, this is the way I was meant to be. I can't change it now.
20 years without a championship in any sport. There's been only one that I can remember. The curse will probably last the rest of my life. Time for another beer.
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