You Can’t Handle “The Truth”

If I asked you to name the starting lineup for you favorite NBA team could you do it?  Not last year’s lineup or the lineup of the team in the 80’s but this coming season’s?  It’s ok, I couldn’t do it for my team, The Boston Celtics, either.

There was a time when you could name the starting five for your team whenever you were asked.  This time has since passed and every year the big news is what superstar is accepting more money to play on a different team.  My favorite player however is an exception.  The average amount of time an NBA player spends on one team is about 3.5 years when you get rid of the outliers.  Paul Pierce however, is not one for tradition.  He would have fit better on the Celtics teams from the 70’s and 80’s as he played for them for 16 seasons.  The average career of an NBA player is 11 seasons, but he has played 18 and 16 of them for the Boston Celtics.

This loyalty is rare these days.  Why is that?  The answer is money.  Today our society and professional sports specifically are based on money alone.  So many players desire contracts that allow them to opt out at any point that they are offered more money, (LEBRON).  Pierce, going against the grain, has taken pay cuts instead.  When the team in 2007 was put together, Pierce took a pay cut to allow for stars, Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen to join the team.  A year later the Celtics went on to win the championship.

Before the championship the Celtics were a losing team, straight up.  They had losing records for 3 years straight and the worst record in the league before the 2007 season, yet Pierce stuck with them despite trade rumors.  The passion Pierce had for this team really came to fruition in the NBA finals against their rivals, THE LOS ANGELES LAKERS.  Pierce left with an injury only to come back and lead his team to victory in the first game of the series (15 point fourth quarter) where they would eventually win the title.

Pierce, embodies a larger idea that is all but obsolete these days.  The ability to remain loyal to one team, your team.  Nobody that knows the Celtics would dare argue that the Celtics weren’t his team in the past decade.  They were once Bird’s, Walton’s and now Pierce’s.  His character is one that is not seen anymore in professional sports, where the team is more important than the money or yourself.

A lot of us have nicknames, but not many of us are nicknamed by Shaquille O’neal.  Paul Pierce earned the nickname, “The Truth” by Shaq back in 2001.  “Write this down, Paul Pierce is the Mother Fucking Truth,” said Shaq after the game.  His nickname came to represent his style of play.  He is the truth of what the NBA should be, a league where players are loyal to their teams and where winning the game is what drives you every day, not making a paycheck.  I can’t tell you how many hours I spent taking Paul Pierce’s infamous elbow shot, a spot where he’s hit many game winners for the Celtics, only to realize he is more talented than I.  His passion and loyalty inspire me and are unmatched by any player in the NBA these days.  I am not the only fan who sees this, even after Pierce was traded away, the reaction of the fans was one of unmatched love for the player as they celebrated with this video upon his return. (Turn it up to feel the passion)

He is and will always be “The Truth” that the NBA and fans everywhere are still trying to handle.

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Back in Tom Brady’s college days at the University of Michigan, good friend Aaron Shea recalls his once simple dreams:

‘If I hit it real big, I want to be able to wake up, put a pair of socks on, and at the end of the day, I throw ’em away.’

“I’m like, ‘That’s all you want?’ And he goes, ‘Yeah, that’s what I want. I love new socks.'”

Now with three super bowl rings, a super-model wife, and a multi-million dollar mansion currently under construction (thanks to Dr Dre buying his old one for 40m), it’s safe to say that Brady has far surpassed his once humble aspirations of new socks. Due to his long and successful career, many NFL fans around the country either admire his many accomplishments or loathe him out of piercing jealousy.

As a native to the Boston area, I grew up with an impression of Brady as the underdog – the 199th overall draft pick who captured the hearts of New England fans everywhere. Through my perspective, I could never see him as the rich, pretty-boy snob as many other people do. Beginning with my first sports memory – the 2001 Super Bowl victory over the St Louis Rams, my childhood and adolescence can be remembered through a collection of Sundays cheering on my favorite player.

Although I originally began to admire Brady early on due to his rapid success, I think his humble beginnings have more of an impact of why he’s been a hometown hero for so long. A 2011 ESPN interview showing a sobbing Tom Brady discussing his experiences on draft day reminded me of how admirable his feats have been.

As described by his father, by the sixth round 22-year old Tom was so overwhelmed and distraught, he took a baseball bat and began walking down the street in rage. Upon returning home to his parents, they walked around the block trying to calm him down, letting him know that everything would work out in the end. Moments later, the TV screen indicated that with the 199th overall pick, the New England Patriots chose Tom Brady.

With the devastating injury to Patriots starting quarterback Drew Bledsoe, Brady found himself leading the team in only his second season. New Englanders showed extreme wariness for this young California kid as the new QB, but with an impressive 11-3 record that season, he earned himself a the role as their permanent starter.

The rest all seems like history to me as I’ve been extremely spoiled watching the Patriots franchise grow – spearheaded by Tommy Football himself. Through my Boston sports fan bias, I see Brady as a hero, yet for others, he’s a metrosexual pretty-boy who hates getting sacked. Whatever you think of him, one must not overlook his humble beginnings, and of course, his three super bowl rings.

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The Mental Athlete

Yiliang “Doublelift” Peng doesn’t use a ball, stick, or bat. He doesn’t depend on big muscles or agility to help his team win. Rather, he relies on split second decision making and precision game mechanics at a level of consistency that seems almost robotic to help his team attain victory. Doublelift isn’t a conventional athlete. Instead he competes in the virtual realm, in a phenomenon known as eSports.

On October 4th, 2013, over 10,000 screaming fans packed into the Staples Center. On this night however no one was watching basketball. These 10,000 fans were part of over 32 million people that tuned in to watch the international finals known as “Worlds” for the popular online video game “League of Legends.” This event, whose viewership eclipsed every major American sporting event (except for the Superbowl) is part of something that hasn’t quite fully saturated into mainstream American culture: professional gaming, or eSports.

In the eyes of many Americans, Doublelift is a 21 year old kid sitting in front of his computer. Nothing more. But in the eyes of those who take part in the cultural niche of pro gaming Doublelift is nothing short of a god. Peng plays a position called “marksman” for a professional gaming team named “Counter Logic Gaming,” or CLG, in the growing eSport that is League of Legends.

Peng is currently one of the most successful pro gamers in North America. While his exact salary is unknown, it is known that through sponsorships, tournament winnings, team salary, and streaming, gamers like Peng could be earning upwards of $300,000 a year. While some may say he’s living the dream now, Peng’s success didn’t come without struggle.

Peng was the middle son of two first-generation Chinese immigrants. In a radio interview on KFI AM-640 Peng mentions that he was kicked out of his house for wanting to play video games professionally. Peng states that he came from a “traditional Chinese household” where his expectations were to go to college, (he was a great high school student) get a conventional career, and support his family. Luckily for us eSports fans, Doublelift’s passion for competition was too intense to allow him to live a traditional life.

At the age of 18 Peng was kicked out of his house with nothing to his name except a bike, his computer, and the money he had in winnings from a recent tournament. With no one to turn to, Peng eventually found help from an eSports journalist named Travis Gafford who was, among other things, developing an eSports podcast titled “State of the League.” While under Gafford’s roof, Peng had time to practice the skills necessary to launch his gaming career to the next level. After stints with professional gaming teams Epik Gamer, unRestricted eSports, and Team Curse Peng found home with Counter Logic Gaming, (a team he had been a part of previously in 2011). This was the launching point for Peng’s career and to this day CLG is the team he competes with.

Peng isn’t a typical American success story. He is a participant in a cultural event that carries an immense negative stigma. His parents, like most American parents, see video games as nothing more than a hobby, and a pretty meaningless one at that.

The connotations surrounding your average gamer in American culture aren’t exactly flattering. But when gamers see Doublelift, they don’t see negatives. They see the passion, the determination, and the perseverance that define a hero. Peng is a pioneer in a world fraught with negative stereotypes. He has proved to be a leading factor in the spreading of a game that is causing a paradigm shift in mainstream American culture. He serves as the face of a dream that millions of children grow up wishing to achieve: to play video games for a living.

When I watch Peng compete he is the same to me as any athlete. He puts on his jersey, he warms up his fingers, and he sits down with four teammates looking to do only one thing: to prove that they are superior to the five people sitting across from them. Doublelift and the hundreds of other eSports competitors worldwide that play League of Legends professionally are pioneers in an industry that has the potential to become bigger than any international sporting event in history.

As a player, as a recreational competitor, and most importantly as a fan of professional gaming, I submit a “Thank You” to Doublelift and his fellow competitors for helping to launch an industry that has proven more entertaining to me than any traditional sport I played throughout high school or college. Doublelift and so many others exude a passion, grit, and perseverance that isn’t recognized by enough people (including sometimes one’s own parents) because of their unwillingness to embrace new ideas due in large part to the stigmas surrounding gaming culture. It’s people, no, athletes like Doublelift who are helping to break down these walls and unveil a new side of athleticism: the mental athlete.

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John Daly

Out of nowhere there was an American rookie that didn’t even have a secure spot on the 1991 PGA Championship at Crooked Stick, as a matter of fact he was the ninth alternate for this tournament. The player was John Daly; also know as the lion or wild thing. He started making noise in the golfing world after his second day one the tour. The newspapers on Saturday had one question, “John Who?”


A self-proclaimed redneck from Arkansas, who didn’t even start playing golf till his mid teens, John Daly is not the best player in the golf war but none the less has opened many eyes up to the golf world. Like I mentioned before his first major was in 1991 and then the 1995 British Open Win. He only picked up those 2 Majors but had a total of 19 professional wins.

But with all this fast success came an even faster spiral to trouble. With many years of little to no success in the majors he started turning to drinking and gambling. After getting the PGA Tour Comeback Player of the year in 2004, it seemed like John was starting to turn back into his old self, or at least that is what the world thought. Then 2006 he released the final chapter of his autobiography saying, “He claims to have lost between US $50 and $60 million over the past 15 years”. And Later his swing coach quit and while leaving said, “the most important thing in his life is getting drunk”. This shattered John and in 2007 he picked up his non-exempt status and has been playing smaller tournaments and earning said, “chump-change”.


He earned his Pro status back in 2013 and has been playing in tournaments by invitation only, saying this he has earned $10,116,306 as of June 2, 2014. He now resides in Dardanelle, Arkansas with his son “Little John”. When he does play tournaments they are more abroad then in the US. He claims his favorite place to play would be Australia.

Until next time “Get stuffed, Go Buffs!”

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It was mine!

There is one moment in my past sports experiences I clearly remember to this day, that make me cringe and ask what could I have done to cut .04 off my race and beat my friend, and where would I be if I could have won. Through out my life I played many sports everything from football to golf, but my favorite sport was swimming. I enjoyed everything about the sport, waking up and jumping in a cold pool, is one of the best feelings ever. The only downfall was always and I mean ALWAYS smelling like chlorine!


It starts off like any other story, a kid sees a sport he likes his parents put him in it. Well my story might have started the same but took a turn in the right direction for an athlete. I went to swim lessons and was a natural after two practices; I got recruited by the pools swim team and was swimming competitively at the age of eight. Then my mom found a program that challenged me so much that my skills in the pool skyrocketed to levels I could only imagine. After one year in the program I was breaking state records and was one of the best swimmers in the state, behind one of my teammates and also my best friend, Ian Miller. After our time on the team we were recruited by the Junior Olympic Team and competed for a spot on the team. We both competed in one meet for juniors. We were both in the same races and same heats. 


We were in three races together, 50 Free, 100 Fly, 200 Individual Medley. We start with the 50 Free he is in lane 4 and I was in lane 3, we get set and take our marks and BUZZ the starter goes off I get a better start with Ian close behind we get to the wall, I flip turn first but he gets a better kick off the wall. He takes the lead and holds me off for the rest of the race! 2nd place I wasn’t upset but I really wanted to win this race knowing I had fly won.


We get back on the starting block after a break, but this time I was in lane 4 and Ian was in lane 5, we get ready for MY race. I had such a good start I was half a body ahead of him when we started swimming. I hit the wall and flipped perfectly taking a whole body lead on him, knowing in the back of my mind he is a great finisher. I hit the wall starting the finally fifty still had a full body lead on him, in my mind this race was won, I eased off in the slightest bit and out of the corner of my eye, guess who I see. I picked it back up and beat him to the wall and kicked off faster taking the lead and keeping it till the final wall. Boom first place, greatest feeling ever.


The final race came up a lot faster then I anticipated. 200 IM this race went back and forth between both of us every meet. Same as before we start and I get the lead and kill the butterfly. In first place we start the backstroke he catches up but takes a bad flip I continue with the lead. Then starts the breaststroke, he killed me I had no chance in beating him after this stroke. About to give in we flip for freestyle and the last fifty, I was still on his heels but couldn’t catch him only hoping he would take a bad flip turn and give me the opportunity to catch him. Guess what happens? He does I catch him and we are neck and neck going into the final wall. Back and forth, back and forth we swim, and then boom we hit the wall at what seemed like the exact same time. We both stand up and look I post a time of 2:13.07, he post the time of 2:12.03 and earned a spot on the team.


After this he swam until he tore his rotator cuff while playing football, and I started playing other sports and only swam competitively in high school, both of us never getting to see what could have happened.


Until next time, “Get Stuffed, Go Buffs!”

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Hometown Heroes

If you asked me if I loved sports, my answer would be a stereotypical, “Yes, all of them.”  If you  followed it up with what sports did you play growing up, my answer would be the exact same, except maybe altered to make sense grammatically.

I grew up in a suburb of Denver called Greenwood Village.  I should even preface that sentence by saying that both of my parents are doctors and the Lord has blessed me my entire life with opportunities to pursue whatever sports I wanted to.  That being said, I realized when I was preparing to write this, and determining my angle, that my hometown didn’t really affect which sports I played or how I played them.  I could’ve played any sport I wanted.  In fact, I did.  I played baseball, soccer, lacrosse, football, basketball, tennis, track, swim team, you get the point.  I tried hockey and realized that ice is slippery and quit immediately.  The point is where I lived didn’t have a major influence on my passion for sports.

My competitive drive however, did.  It took me until I was a senior in high school to come to the realization that the reason I could never find just one sport to pursue wasn’t because I didn’t love a sport enough, but because I loved winning and competing more.  I grew up in a family that emphasized winning, probably too much at times, and therefore provided a home environment where I could pursue competition at all odds.  I love beating people, in anything.  So that town Greenwood Village didn’t have any major weather issues like wind or rainy seasons,  it’s professional sports teams (Nuggets, Avs, Rockies, Broncos) never inspired me to play for a Denver sports team.  This may seem random but as a sports fan I’m obligated to tell you I am a diehard Celtics, Panthers and LA Kings fan with no patience to watch baseball on TV or 164 games for that matter.

The point of all this is that my hometown, a small, well-to-do city, outside Denver had almost nothing to do with my love of sports or what sports I played.  I tried to decide if there was any experience I had that could explain this and I came up with a broad example I hope will suffice.  Paul Pierce, Steve Smith, these two guys embody why I love the teams I love and why I played the sports I played.  

“You can’t teach height,” is what my freshman basketball coach told me as he benched me in the last game of our season.  Steve Smith, one of the all time great receivers to ever play in the NFL and for my team, the Carolina Panthers, is only 5’9.  He is undersized for his position but he makes up for this by exceeding in other areas of his game.  Paul Pierce played years on a losing Celtics team, always learning to win and lose as a team.  This eventually set him up to win a national title and his competitive drive took him there.  

My hometown may not have influenced me much in the way I view sports, but the heroes, those are the guys who inspire me every day to compete, to do my best and ultimately to come out a winner.

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my high school sports experience

Only nineteen miles west of Boston you will find the town of Wayland – a quiet community I’ve called home since birth. Similar to the many other suburban towns that comprise the greater-Boston area, Wayland is densely forested, with homes dating back to the colonial times. Sure it’s a scenic speck of sixteen square miles, but the low-key nature can make it a pretty boring place for your average teenager. Because of this, it seemed that nearly everyone found something to get involved in, with sports clearly being the most popular choice. The same scenario was true for the surrounding eight towns that my high school competed against, making up the Dual County League. We were the Wayland Warriors, the orange and black wearing underdogs. Although comparatively our school had the least amount of students, we always produced top-notch teams – from cross-county to football. My sport was lacrosse, and it became my passion while I was growing up.

By the start of my freshman year of high school, I let go of my dreams in baseball and soccer to pursue lacrosse full time. I felt that I really had some talent to develop, and I eventually wanted to make my hometown proud. Just that year a new million-dollar turf field was installed, and I wanted nothing more than to one day run out on the field, seeing all the familiar faces cheering from the bleachers. I was a long way from this reaching this goal, and that was something I needed to change. Weighing only 125 pounds at the time, I decided it was time to hit the gym. On top of that, I joined a club lacrosse team to keep my skills sharp during the offseason, while most of my teammates’ sticks collected dust. With much dedication over the next six months, I transformed myself into an educated and valuable player. Because sports were so incredibly competitive in my neck of the woods, I felt very accomplished by the years end, as I was eventually asked to join the Varsity squad.

With an expanding social life and the eminent stress from college prep, lacrosse acted as way for me to get away from it all. As time went on, I eventually amassed the rank of assistant captain my junior year. Though still living in the small bubble of a community, I felt like king of the world at the time. In between visiting colleges on weekends and winning games after class, you could say things were going all according to plan. Little did I know that in a matter of months, everything was about to change.

Fast-forward to January 2011, winter break of my senior year. I find myself chasing one of my other biggest passions, snowboarding. Strapped up and ready to go at the top of Stowe mountain resort, my older brother and I competitively decide to race down – to once and for all declare who’s better. Though his extra weight and freshly waxed skis made him a tough opponent, my ability to hit jumps and soar through the air gave me the competitive advantage. Coming down one of the final steep declines, I hurled my body into the air, landing inches in front of my brother. With adrenaline running full blast, I looked back behind me – which proved to be a big mistake. My board became intertwined with my brother’s skis, sending me sliding off the trail, right into a ditch. My ACL tore in half, and I’ve never been able to play competitive lacrosse again.

With much reflection time since the injury, I can now appreciate what sports in Wayland have taught me. I took my sporting career very seriously, and it’s instilled qualities such as teamwork, dedication, and perseverance. By sitting on the sidelines senior year, I was able to realize that there’s more to life than sports, but I will always treasure the skills I learned along the way. Though high school feels like a distant memory now, I will always be a Wayland Warrior.

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Colorado Springs: Denver’s Little Brother

If Colorado Springs was an actor it would have been nominated for the Oscar for best second banana. Colorado Springs is what Robin is to Batman. It’s what Patrick is to Spongebob. It’s what jelly is to peanut butter. It’s what.. Okay that’s probably enough. Let me elaborate. Colorado Springs is a wonderful city equidistant from the beautiful Rocky Mountains, the boring empty vastness that is Eastern Colorado, and most importantly the booming metropolis of Denver.

You see, Colorado Springs is in a state of growth. It’s like the pubescent angst-filled teenager that thinks it’s a real person but isn’t quite big enough to be considered an adult by the rest of the community. The Springs’ biggest achievement in the world of sports is probably their baseball team: The Colorado Springs Sky Sox. The Sky Sox are the AAA Minor League affiliate of the Colorado Rockies, hailing from none other than “DENNNNVVUHHHH COLLOORRAAAADDDOOOOO” as the announcers like to yell before games.

A second notable sport achievement is what even Colorado Springs residents will probably take a second or two to remember: the hockey team known as The Colorado Springs Gold Kings. The Gold Kings lasted from ’98 to 2002. They couldn’t even draw enough fans to fill the Springs’ very own “World Arena.” In fact they were such a bad team that the term “Gold Kings” has basically become an inside joke between all 400,000 residents of the city.

As unfortunate as it is to admit, Colorado Springs was never the professional sports mecca of it’s older brother Denver. Denver has the Rockies, the Avalanche, the Nuggets, the Broncos (I think they’re the home of whatever MLS team plays in Colorado too.. but I didn’t want to put that in since we’re talking about sports! ZIIIIIING!). The summer Sky Sox games were fun but they just didn’t compare to the excitement or the crowds or the adventure that accompanied a trip to Denver to see the “big boys” play. We don’t even have a decent sized college community to get behind. If you move to Colorado Springs expecting to be a sports fan, you’re just about out of luck. Fortunately, The Springs has a lot more to offer.

Colorado Springs is consistently rated as one of the top five fittest cities in America. A combination of the mountains, the altitude, the sunshine and the amazing amount of biking/running trails keeps everyone on their toes (literally). Not to mention, it is home to the flagship U.S. Olympic Training Complex. The Springs’ community maintains a strong sense of fitness and outdoor adventure. While traditional sports might not rank highly on our list of priorities, less-traditional sports like hiking, fishing, jogging, biking, skiing, and swimming (to name a few) do a good job of filling up the space left by our lack of professional teams. 

Growing up in Colorado Springs as a sports fan left a lot to be desired. But! Growing up in Colorado Springs as an active participator in sports was without question one of the most important things I did as a child. It instilled in me a strong sense of physical fitness and the importance of participating in team sports. I learned a lot about myself and the people around me playing in Park and Rec leagues. From football to baseball to track to basketball, I did it all for as long as I could and I’m very grateful that the city I grew up in had the infrastructure to satisfy my sporting needs. 

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It’s the experience that counts

There’s been three states, dozens of schools and more countries than one likes to remember that have floated by in the past twenty one years.  For the sole purpose that it’s Sunday, i’m tired, and I still have a lot of homework to do as well as my own personal projects lets just narrow my list of adventures down to a more manageable list before I start ranting on to the reader.  I was born in Zurich, Switzerland up on the hill overlooking the lake. I’m told that for these first two and a half year we lived in an apartment slightly on the outskirts of the city.  Next up was just thirty minutes drive outside of London, England.  Now even though i was young at the time i clearly remember that house and most of all the backyard.  Wow what a back yard it had, I would have loved to have grown up with that sort of land but my stay in England lasted only three years.  That backyard was the first introduction into sports I can remember,  we had a massive flat grassy area next to my moms garden that my sister, me and the neighbors would play soccer on.  The rules were pretty standard,  although the goals were close together and it was decided very early on that if you kicked the ball into the rose bushes you had to get it yourself and not blame it on someone else.  Three years go by and its time to leave England and move back to Zurich thus ending what I could only imagine was the start of my professional soccer career.

Only kidding as you’ll soon find out.

 Another three years goes by living in Zurich and since we were in the city there was little room to play soccer.  We bounced around for six months and finally found home in Connecticut.  The American love of all sports, especially on the east coast, really pushed my capabilities to the max and I blew past all my peers becoming one of the youngest professional soccer, football, and lacrosse stars of all time.  Of course i’m joking, all Connecticut did was introduce me to sports other than soccer, some I came to love and some that I came to dearly hate.  I kept up with soccer when moving to the united States and found it enjoyable while I was still young.  I began playing Lacrosse pretty early on and immediately found something that i had interest in as well was good at, unlike soccer which as i got older i became bored with.  Lacrosse stuck with me all throughout high school even when moving to California. I was never exceptional but i started on my high school team and it helped me meet friends moving around so much.  Back to Connecticut though,  I tried playing so many sports while I was there its hard to count them all.  The ones that do stand out very vividly in my memories are the sports that i absolutely hated playing.  These included baseball, tennis, swimming, volleyball, water polo, track and field, and cross country.  I was lucky though to be able to experience so many different sports and the people who played them in my life so far.  

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Hows the team doing?

There I was sitting in my living room with a shaker bottle full of whey protein, shirtless and enjoying a PBR looking like the type of guy who could yell at any team in the NFL like my brother was in it.  My situation turns out to be the complete opposite.  There was really only one thing on my mind at that moment, “hey beers got calories and some carbs in it. It cant be to bad for your stomach after a workout.”  But I was terribly wrong and to spare the dirty details lets just say  my friend Ben could tell something wasn’t sitting well when he walked in the room…  But enough about that, his arrival reminded me about the CU football game happening in thirty minutes.  We had been at the gym earlier, it was chest day, and discussed watching some football after we lifted with some friends at a bar neither of us had ever heard of.  Noticing him enter the door with his full shaker bottle and a bag of jerky it was an unspoyken agreement between us that there would be no rush to watch the game, not that we needed any more motivation to leave with the episode of Cops on TV.  In hind sight he was a perfect workout partner because he didn’t really care for the upcoming game either.  Thirty minutes went by without notice, with forty five approaching I noticed the time and decided it was time to actually be a good Buffs fan and head down to the bar to pretend and watch football.

I always thought Harpo’s was some type of out of place dive bar in Boulder. Turns out it had more of family restaurant vibe which did not mesh well with my sweat pants, lacrosse jersey combo but o’well, I was there for two reasons and two reasons only, drinking beer and eating as many buffalo wings as I could.  You can imagine the disappointment when I find out from the waitress that I missed the wings special during happy hour by fifteen minutes, thoughts of whether me and Ben should have finished that second episode of Cops pops into my head but are quickly dismissed.  I immediately order eighteen wings in what they claim is their famous buffalo sauce, only later to find out that its almost identical to Frank’s Red Hot; what a disappointment.  The eight dollar pitcher of rolling rock wasn’t anything near a disappointment though as I wasn’t driving home and those wings needed something to wash them down with.  Alright back to whats important, the football game and school pride.  Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy watching sports especially if its our own team, I just wasn’t in the mood this specific evening and lets be honest, the Buffs don’t have the best track record of college teams.  I’m not even going to lie to you I didn’t stay till the end of the game, without my glasses I could tell the score board wasn’t going anywhere for the home team and after two pitchers I was more in the mood to hangout with the new neighbors across the street.  Leaving with a proud “Sko’ Buffs!!” to my friends just so they knew who’s side I was on and how deeply I had been following the game me and Ben left Harpo’s to start our night.

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