A Random Rant on Everything Sports

I found myself sitting at a Sports Bar on Sunday with a few friends of mine, ranting and raving about my true love. No.. not some silly boy… Sports. Most guys that meet me of course are skeptical. She’s a sham, it’s an act. They are the one’s who think that women who claim to "love sports" must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to drink as much as the other sports watchers. While the second part of the equation has been nixed by my New Year’s Resolution, the first part has been proven time and time again. Anyone that has ever sat across from me at a sports bar knows this. Hell, I have actually interrupted a first date to do my fantasy baseball draft. Needless to say there wasn’t a second… but I did score a helluva’ outfielder. (Too bad I can’t say the same for my pitching. C’mon Zito.. get some frickin confidence!!!)

With baseball season in full swing and a hectic travel schedule to match… I can pretty much say that I haven’t gotten to enjoy as much time at the ballpark as I would like to. Naturally, baseball was never really my true passion (football is.. and always will be), but I have come to discover a new found appreciation for the game during my college years. There is something about college sports in general that just draws you in… the crowd, the atmosphere… the pants...:)

But seriously, I’d have to take college over pro any day. Call me sentimental… or a sap.. or just plain naïve, but I really do feel that college kids are the true athletes. They are the kids that are playing.. just to spend a few more days in the sun. Before there were high-roller paychecks, steroid scandals, and player strikes.. the game of baseball was America’s favorite past time. Now, the love of the game has taken the backseat to commercialism, “my paycheck’s bigger than your paycheck,” and all out tattle tale wars that would make even a kindergartner embarrassed. Getting a shot at the Bigs used to be a chance to spend every day of your playing career doing what you loved the most.. playing strictly for the love of the game: for the feeling of the leather in the palm of your hand, the grip of the bat at your fingertips, and the sound of a crowd that knew your name. THAT was what the game was all about. Somewhere, in the transition from college to professional sports, most people lost sight of this. I say… bring back the days where a trip to the ballpark meant something: where hotdogs didn’t cost as much as a gourmet meal, and you didn’t have to dip into your kid’s college fund to afford decent seats. Maybe then, I’ll give pro sports an honest chance. Until then, I’ll stick with my colors.

The other thing that has me seriously miffed this baseball season is the lack of enthusiasm for my home team, the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. If I have to listen to one more stupid sports broadcaster blast my team, I might put a bat through the tv myself. In fact, one of the only smart pieces of journalism I have come across this season regarding the Rays comes from The Sports Guy himself, Mr. Bill Simmons. Simmons noted that the Rays are a young, and superiorly athletic team when compared to most franchises. If they played anything other than baseball.. a triathlon, flag football, hell.. even water polo.. they would KILL the majority of the big name franchises. Why?.. It all comes down to youth, and heart. Now, Simmons didn’t go so far as to take them over his very own Boston big leaguers, but he did say that he sure as hell wouldn’t want to see the two teams get in a bench-clearing brawl. Then again, if that wouldn’t get ratings and highlights coverage… I dunno what will. So kudos Mr. Simmons for recognizing these kids for having a trait that most teams nowadays would kill for (the heart part… not the Ultimate Fighting Championship part)… and we the people of the Tampa Bay area will continue to support our Rays… for better.. or for worse.

On a related matter, my boy Will Carroll… (and yeah.. I said “friend” - everyone that has been talking crap to poor Will.. saying he isn’t really friends with me.. ) will be on hand to talk sports, stats, and of course injuries with us in person at Tropicana Field on May 3. For more information regarding ticket specials, appearance times, check him out at www.baseballprospectus.com. Hope to see you all there.

And Will.. WHEN YOU READ THIS… I will fully understand if you chicken out on our RBI Tournament while you’re here. I understand it’s really intimidating to play someone that has learned from the best (Thanks DQ!), let alone.. how much you will hate your life should you be beaten by a girl.

Good News to Seminole fans everywhere.. the ‘Noles won their Spring football game. ::: crickets::: Yep, these are the jokes kids. If one thing was highlighted in this year’s Spring scrimmage, it was the ever so popular question of “Who will be at the helm of Bobby’s offense come opening game against Clemson?” Anyone with any knowledge of Florida State’s program knows that is has been aching for something new for the past six years or so. We don’t have to point fingers, or say what went wrong, only that measures have been taken during this past off season to ensure that things will be looking up FSU this year. The Seminoles have endured day after day of grueling practice schedules in Tallahassee’s early spring heat, so much so that our offensive line has shed an amazing 200+ lbs thus far.... Will someone get Rick Trickett in touch with the people at the Biggest Loser – Offensive Line Edition???.. I think he may be on to an amazing weight loss secret.

One of the last topics of discussion was of course poor Mr. Don Imus. At what point did his brain and his mouth agree that making THAT statement would be beneficial to his career? I understand the need to make jokes and humor, after all that is what the entertainment business is all about. It is quite another thing though, to attack someone based on their race and their heritage. Anyone who has followed my travels with SI this past year knows of my friendship with the kids from Jersey—The Scarlet Knights. Now, we may not have always seen eye-to-eye, but we have come to understand one another and find a mutual respect for each other in the sports realm. So … shame on you Imus. You disappoint me not only as a “responsible sports commentator”, but as a respectable human being as well. To the Lady Knights that endured, and defended themselves against such harsh, racist, and completely unnecessary remarks … know that this chick from Florida has nothing but the utmost respect for not only the way you conducted yourselves during the media frenzy, but your program in general. And not that Jersey needs any help.. but if you mess with the Knights.. well.. you mess with me too. I’ve got your back ladies.

This officially concludes my rant on all things sports for the moment… and sorry for all the randomness. But what can I say.. there’s so much sports… and so little time?.

Sterger. Out.

(Gee Thanks, Gary... Damn… I have been watching entirely too much American Idol.)

Not Another Teen Movie…

I’ve never been the kinda girl to like the color pink. It just wasn’t my nature. I hated everything the color pink stood for… frills, make-up, and the whole shebang. But yet, there I sat—23 years old on a Saturday night-- engrossed in one of the eighties most legendary movies: Pretty in Pink. Damn that John Hughes and his ability to suck you back into your teen world, even when you think you are long past the days of getting shoved into your locker after band class. If only forgetting the high school drama was as easy as it seems. I mean, you graduate, you go away to college, get a job, and find out that the real world is just like high school, only with a much bigger class size. The places and names may have changed, but the people are still the same. The brain, the athlete, the basketcase, the princess, the criminal…Sounding familiar yet?...

Mr. Hughes had a knack for relating to the teen experience like no other, and didn’t pretend life was all roses either. Don’t get me wrong, most teen movies of the 80’s had some serious bubble gum endings (with the exception of Heather’s of course)… but he wasn’t afraid to tackle issues that kids dealt with on an everyday basis… drugs, sex, family dilemmas, and of course… love. Now, I am not talking Romeo and Juliet over the top theatrics love, but more like your typical romantic comedy love. Anyone who knows anything about romantic comedies knows there’s always the “meet cute.” You know what I am talking about. It’s that humorous moment of awkwardness between the two main characters who are the stories’ potential love interests. Separately, these two couldn’t be anymore different (different class, different personality, and different beliefs)… but when they are thrust into each others lives by hopeless romantic screen writers… well..That’s the movies for you. Sure, the meeting is totally contrived, and almost anyone with any common sense can already predict the film’s outcome, but it doesn’t stop us from watching the rest of it now.. does it?.. Of course not.

So the story goes: Boy meets girl. Boy falls for girl. Something (usually meddling family, friends, or the boy doing something stupid) messes things up. Boy leaves girl. Boy breaks girl’s heart.

The rest of the story is a little ad lib, but for the most part, it usually ends the same way. Real life however isn’t that simple. Real life… is downright complicated and messy. It’s not every day that two seemingly completely opposite people from completely different worlds meet one another. Life’s just not that ironic. And if those people do meet, the odds of them forming any kind of actual relationship are slim to none, especially if either of them is socially preoccupied.

Sometimes human beings have a tendency to react like sheep… and high school was no different. No one thinks anything for themselves, no one does anything for themselves… they simply follow the herd, and do what the herd dictates is expected of them. The one that doesn’t… well, they’re blacklisted as the martyr or the outcast. They give off signals that they don't want to belong, and the appointed important people will make sure that they don't. But what if they are just trying to stand out from the pack.. to be an individual.. to be noticed?.. What’s so wrong about being different, and having your own views?... Nothing - unless you fall in love with a member of the herd.

Suddenly, a once light-spirited girl-- one that didn’t care what the rest of the world thought about her as long as she knew who she was, and was understood by those around her-- is now judged by standards she had long disregarded. As I sat on the couch and watched this plot unfold, I could see the fireworks coming a mile away… maybe because of events I have experienced in my own life at one point or another.

Poor Andy! Falls in love with one of the popular boys, but she isn’t good enough for his friends or family… so they can’t be together. What complete horse-rubbish! Blane’s expression and explanation (or lack there of)… “This has nothing to do with you”… seriously irked my tater. I threw a piece of popcorn at the screen, which my bubble butt of a cat gladly chased to the floor.

Even as an eighties movie, this concept still seems like such garbage to me. I can’t fathom loving someone that didn’t think I was good enough to be seen with them, that wasn’t proud of who I was, and who acted ashamed of me… based on what everyone else told him about “girls like THAT.” What the hell is THAT supposed to mean? If two people are absolutely perfect for each other, then what the hell else matters?.. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Sometimes, you just have to be a mature enough person to think for yourself. Not everyone is going to like the decisions you make in life… but who says they have to?.. In the end, it has to be about what you want. Maybe people ought to spend a little more time trying to do something with themselves and a little less time trying to impress others. You can spend the rest of your life trying to live the life they want you to, or you can find your own path that fulfills you. Life is too short and unpredictable to not be sweet. So don’t just exist.. live!!

Flash forward to the prom. Ah… don’t ya just LOVE 80’s fashion trends. The poofy sleeves, big hair… and Dear God!!!... Look at those bangs. What WAS she thinking???..

Now the prom scene is totally predictable, yet completely unavoidable when writing a teen movie. I mean, what high school experience would be complete without a prom??? So… You’re pretty much obligated to have one. Pretty in Pink was no exception. There’s the “Do-I-Go??” or “Don’t-I-Go??” Scene, where Molly Ringwald’s character decides whether to spend her Saturday night on her couch with popcorn, her cat, and a chick flick (::cough, cough::)… or to go to the prom… and face her destiny. She of course goes with the latter.

The rest I guess you could say is history. Boy sees girl. Boy realizes he has been a “daft prick,” and has that moment of enlightenment where he realizes his true feelings regardless of what the rest of society thinks. Boy has learned to think for himself.

“You said you couldn't be with someone who didn't believe in you. Well I believed in you. I just didn't believe in me. I love you. Always.”

Atta boy Blane!... Thank you John Hughes for giving us hopeless romantics a reason to believe, even when life keeps shoving us into lockers. Maybe there will come a day when real life and love doesn’t seem so high school.

As the end credits rolled, I looked over at the clock. Hmm.. only ten o’clock.

“What do you think Vegas?”… I say to my cat, who stares back at me blankly like she could care less… (I told you she’s a b@#$!)

“My thoughts exactly.”

It’s early… Now if you’ll excuse me.. I still have an overly frilly pink prom dress to make.

We now return to your regularly scheduled blogging…

Before my regular readers go thinking I have become a complete headcase and have fallen off the face of the planet only to resurface in a Hollywood Country Club.. ::cough:: I mean, rehab with a shaved head… I assure you this will not be like the previous blogs. Sure, occasional introspection is good for the soul every now and then, but if you are constantly analyzing your life you’ll forget why you’re on this planet in the first place… to just “live.” We all have our own ideas of what true “living” is... but for me... it’s going back to the basics that make this girl who she is.

(Cue the KT Tunstall music “Suddenly I See,” as pretty much every television show with a female protagonist uses this as her “moment of enlightenment song,” when she realizes her life is fixin’ to turn around..)

This past week was a real refresher, as for the first time in months I had some actual downtime to just take care of “me.” Sure, there was the usual work stuff to be done.. But who says you can’t mix a little business with pleasure???

I spent much of Wednesday, moseying around the city that has practically become my second home… The Big Apple. New York is a Mecca of craziness that I can relate to my life in so many ways. You never know what you will be doing, where you will be going, but you will always be heading somewhere, and even when you feel alone, you never truly are. It’s a real fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants city, and that’s what I love about it. I still have a schoolgirl crush for the West Coast, and my Southern-hospitality shows through my wannabe New Yorker facade-- as I am the only one constantly stopping to apologize to the guy that just tried to lay me out like the employee in the “Office Linebacker commercial” – but I guess that’s just the small town girl in me.

Music has always been my passion, and when New York does music, they do it big… a la’ Broadway. I’m not exactly a musical theatre dork, but there is just something about a great show that I can really appreciate. Especially if it makes me laugh. My friend Gavin is currently up in NYC working with a theatre company and even cutting his Broadway teeth working with the cast of the 25^th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. So, of course we took in his show, and another personal fave of mine: Spamalot. Anyone who is well-versed in their Monty Python will absolutely love Spamalot. It has some of the best movie quotes ever known to mankind, and of course the World’s largest coconut orchestra. J (Regardless of whether an African or European swallow brought them there, or how they carried it. You can do the math.) I also took time to meet up with my friend Eric Gillin, who has recently been formulating all kinds of cool online content for Esquire. (Be sure and check it out.. because he might be the only person cooler than me when it comes to his no-beans-about-it personality.)

I also hosted a SI March Madness party Thursday night at this super cool joint called Slate. I got a chance to catch up with my buddy Will Carroll (of Baseball Prospectus & ESPN). We exchanged stories of our latest crazy endeavors in the sports world, and he offered me some pretty sound advice on some of my own drama. Who would’ve thought I would ever have to ask someone else for advice??.. I guess even the wisest of people needs a little help from their friends every once and a while. Among all the party attendees, one of the most entertaining was the one that didn’t speak at all: Rutgers Mascot, the Scarlet Knight. What can I say, I am a sucker for a Knight in shining armor—since a lot of the ones I have found have actually been idiots dressed in aluminum foil. Or maybe he was just one of the few guys I have met that didn’t bother throwing out lame pick-up lines (per the mascots “no-speaking” rule). Regardless, he and some of his buddies were an absolute blast to converse with on all things sports, but particularly the Rutgers-Louisville game I witnessed last November. It seemed I had at least won over a little piece of the Scarlet Nation, or was cool enough to be invited back for a game anyway. Maybe WVU.. who knows?..

This time, per Gavin’s urging, I utilized New York’s system of public transportation: The Subway. At first I wasn’t completely sold on the idea of riding on trains in dark tunnels (Eurotrip ring a bell??), but it couldn’t be any worse than some of my cab experiences. It took a little getting used to the swaying, and the ear popping when you’re going under water, but it wasn’t that scary. Plus every once in a while you get the pleasure of being serenaded by some of New York’s up and coming entertainers. Or even better, get to sit in on a political rally en route to your destination. It’s evident that the freedom of speech and expression is alive and well in NYC, and one ride on the subway is all it takes to appreciate the uniqueness of the big city experience.

The rest of the weekend, I spent in Tallahassee, getting back to my roots. There’s nothing better than spring time in Tally: baseball, spring football practice, and of course… early morning runs at Doak Campbell.

For those of you who have been living under a rock, FSU baseball has been doing pretty darn good this season.. They’re GOOD.. They might be the best. Ok, I won’t get ahead of myself. Regardless, the bats have sure been swinging this year. Granted, it’s only been a few weeks in actual ACC play, but already, the Noles are showing they are leaps and bounds ahead of where they were this time last year. Tony Thomas is straight up dominating at the plate, pitching is pretty solid, Buster Posey is leading the team in a grand fashion… and well… overall, they are simply kicking some serious “A.”

This weekend was the big Animals Boston Tea-quila party (formerly known as the Miami Tequila Party). If you ask me, the Boston title was far wittier than the previous, but I am not one to buck tradition. Still, tons showed up to enjoy great food, drinks, and of course who could forget… Tequila Wiffleball???,.. Make-shift styrofoam plate bases, plastic bats and balls.. and people so uncoordinated, most of us looked like we were six years old at our first t ball game. Who’s on first?.. Second??.. or Third?.. I don’t think any of us really knew.

I had an awesome time getting to catch up with old friends in T-town, but mainly just enjoying an afternoon with the Animals. If you don’t know about the Animals, then you aren’t a true fan of FSU baseball. The Animals have been around for a while now, I think almost thirty years. They’re a huge support group of Florida State Baseball and are some of the best hecklers in the game, but in a clean and classy manner. Their cheers are extremely original, as they can write a parody of any schools fight song-- that rivals pretty much everything Weird Al has ever accomplished. They always attempt to show sportsmanship, and routinely congratulate opposing players and teams when a good play is made (though not too much of course). There is the exception of the few drunks in the outfield on occasion, who take great pleasure in telling centerfielders everything they didn’t want to know about their mothers, but … at least they are witty about it. It was nice being able to spend time with them in their designated Section B as the Seminoles routed BC 10-3 Saturday night.

The highlight of my week however wasn’t what you would expect it to be. It wasn’t the parties, or the bustling city, or even baseball. It was an early morning run on the steps of my alma mater Doak Campbell. Few places have the ability to completely remove a person from the outside world and take them to a different place the way Doak does for me. Running bleachers is hardly what most would consider a good time, but for me it helps me find my “center.” No matter how crazy or hectic my life gets, I can always find a sanctuary on its steps. The run itself is pretty grueling, as Doak is all one level, from Row one all the way to the top. Eighty-four steps later though, you can’t help but throw your fists in the air with accomplishment, ala Sylvester Stallone from Rocky. On that particular Sunday morning, Doak was strangely serene, yet I could still manage to hear the crowd cheering. I could hear the whistles, I could hear the band, and I could hear… the Warchant. I was home.

Sometimes when the going gets tough, even the tough can’t get going. Life throws you hanging curves all time-- the choice to swing is yours and yours alone. Sure, you could sit back and hope the “blue” gives you a break or you can take a chance, choke up on the bat, and swing sway. Go ahead, knock the cover off the ball! My batting average has been a little sub par as of late, but it’s still early in the game, and I’m lookin’ for a rally. Everyone makes mistakes, and swings at a bad pitch every now and then. Maybe that’s why they say we’re given two lives: “the life we learn with, and the one we live with after that.” But, if you never swing, how will you ever know?

In the end, it all comes down to character. You have to allow yourself to persevere, learn, and live. Let yourself be great… Because when you believe in yourself, anything is possible. So suit up kids, and shake your hats.. it’s time for the biggest rally you’ve ever witnessed.

“And then when I walked down the street people would've looked and they would've said there goes Roy Hobbs, the best there ever was in this game.”

--The Natural

(For more info on the Animals be sure to check out Warchant.com and SectionB.com!!!)

The Perfect Storm

Hurricane season hasn’t even begun, yet I find myself sitting in the middle of a huge storm. I had plenty of time to prepare for it and I knew I would eventually have to face it. I laughed at the warnings, the premonitions, and dreams I had, and just always hoped that at the last second it would make that sharp left, detour, and leave me unscathed. Unfortunately, for once the weathermen of my life got this one right.

The @#$%-storm that is my personal life made landfall a few weeks ago, and turned my world as I had come to know it upside down. The first half of the storm brought catastrophic winds that ripped down the walls I had built to protect myself and no amount of plywood or preparation could match this force. The insults and personal attacks fell like pelting rain, and there was no one there to protect me when they did. Then came the eye, the part of the storm where everyone tried to assure me the worst was over, even those that had previously churned the already rough waters. People insisted that it would only make things easier, and that once the sky had cleared that my life would go back to normal. Only one problem: I didn’t even know what normal was anymore.

Storms however are unpredictable, and the only person that truly understands their outcome is God. When the clouds parted from this particular storm, even He couldn’t answer the questions I had. After events like the ones I described shake our personal lives, even the strongest-willed individuals will feel shipwrecked and alone. The weak accept their fate, and try to adapt to their new lives as much as can be expected. But the resourceful survivors put a message in a bottle, and pray that someone on a distant shore finds it and comes to their rescue.

I have spent much of the past few weeks sorting through the debris, and coming to grips with the aftermath’s implications. There have been hard times, there have been better times, and there have been even harder times. All the unanswered questions. What did I do to deserve this?... I took a chance on a person, on life, and love… and in the end I was left stranded by myself. Maybe I made a mistake by trusting someone as wholeheartedly as I did. I was a hopeless romantic, and he was… well, hopeless. Maybe our mistakes are what make our fate. Without them, what would shape our lives? Life isn’t about finding ourselves, it’s about creating ourselves. Perhaps if we never veered off course, we wouldn't fall in love, or have babies, or be who we are. It’s about weathering the storm. You may come out a little tattered and worn, but nothing that time and love can’t heal. It doesn’t matter who broke your heart, or how long it takes to heal, you will never make it through it without your friends. You pick up the pieces, learn from them, and live to fight another fight. Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, its learning how to dance in the rain. It’s short...unpredictable, and nothing is ever a sure thing. So break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, and laugh uncontrollably. Above all else, never regret anything that once made you smile.

This particular storm churned up a lot of issues I thought I had long overcome: with trust, with men, with relationships in general. I’ve always approached relationships and friendships with guarded walls and a sense of insecurity. Some I guess would call it baggage, but mine was far worse than that… it was a friggin’ anchor. Maybe our pasts are just that… anchors that are holding us back. You have to let go of who you are, before you can become who you were meant to be. If you never raise the anchor, and really set sail, you’ll just end up beached on shore, or worse, caught in the storm. I’m a stronger person than a lot of the things I have allowed myself to be subjected to. And I deserve better.

It's hard to wait around for something that you know might never happen, but it’s even harder to give up especially when it’s everything you have ever wanted. Legend has it, that the Ibis is the always the last bird to flee from a hurricane, but even the bird knows when the time has come to leave. The storm will come and go, and the Ibis will be the first to appear in its wake. It’s about perseverance, and courage in the face of adversity. So maybe this isn’t giving up, maybe it’s waiting for the winds to die down. The pieces may be broken, and scattered, but nothing is beyond repair.

The rebuilding process has really made me reevaluate who I am, where I am at in life, and where I am going. The turmoil and anxiety that plagued me, the what if’s, and insecurities… they made me something I wasn’t. I have always been a people pleaser, and it killed me that I couldn’t make everyone like me. Then again.. why would I want to? You shouldn't have to sacrifice who you are just because somebody else has a problem with it. And it’s better to be hated for what you are, than loved for what you are not. People can judge from the outside, and give their opinions, but unless you were sitting there when the storm came ashore, then you don’t have the whole story, just the abridged, second-handed one everyone wants you to believe.

Bob Marley once said--”Who are you to judge the life I live? I know I am not perfect and I don't live to be, but before you start pointing fingers, make sure your hands are clean.”

I want the old me back, only a little stronger, a little older, and a little wiser. But who is she? Then it all comes flooding back….

I’m the kinda girl that will dance to eighties music in my underwear when no ones watching. I’m the kinda girl that will defend my favorite sports team like I do my family, and God help you if you insult them. I’m the kinda girl that puts my family and friends before all else, and a guy is lucky to come second. I’m the kinda girl that loves my cat, even if she’s a total bitch and no one else understands her. I’m the kinda girl that will listen to everyone else’s drama, and help them sort through it regardless of whatever @#$% I am experiencing in my own realm of reality. I’m the kinda girl that loves to put a smile on others faces, by sharing mine with them. I’m the kinda girl that smiles for absolutely no reason, and doesn’t care if I am the only one that gets my jokes. I'm the kinda girl that will burst out laughing in dead silence about something that happened yesterday, not because I am slow, but from the sheer memory of how a good laugh feels. I’m the kinda girl that’s sick and tired of Mr. Right Now’s, and simply wants to be with the one that makes me happy.

Yeah. I’m THAT girl.

The past few weeks have really shaken my soul, but never my faith. I put my trust and faith in the fact that God has a plan for me. People are brought into our lives for a reason, and it’s up to us to figure out what that reason is. You never know when the person you meet may be your savior. They were the rope God cast when you fell overboard from the waves in your life, to pull you back to Him. Maybe things aren’t always perfect, and the sun isn’t always shining, but who’s to say it won’t once the skies have cleared? Sometimes it takes weathering these trying circumstances and situations to prove to ourselves who we are. It’s when you learn from these experiences and grow because of them that you become the better human being. And when that little ray of sun bursts from the clouds and the warmth hits your face, you’ll know you have weathered… the Perfect Storm.

"Love is patient, love is kind, It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails."

--(1 Corin. 13: 4-8)

Final Week of the Jenn-X Road Show on Si.com.

This week on SI.com Jenn heads to the Sin City Capital of the U.S...that's right, it's Vegas, Baby!!...Join Jenn as she ventures to the Mountain West Conference Tournament in Las Vegas....and finds the time to visit the Wedding Chapel, get her Beatles groove on, and much more....As always, it’s an episode you won’t want to miss… and its only on SI.com.

Jenn in Las Vegas

Miss an episode? Check out the Jenn Sterger Video Archive on the SI.com website....

When Sports Worlds Collide

Well, sorta. I wanted to take a second to thank the Phillies for inviting me out to the Florida State/Phillies exhibition game. It was an absolute blast to be around so many Florida State fans and I am so proud for the thousands that showed up to support their Noles. It’s not everyday a college team gets a chance at the “Bigs” but I think our boys hung in there for the most part. I got to see friends that I hadn’t seen in forever (as some of the Animals made the trek down to Tampa) and the sea of garnet and gold was a breath of fresh air from the swamp of blue and orange I am continually surrounded by here. Congrats to Tony Thomas for hitting that Bomb on the third pitch of the game, and for his great season thus far. And to all the Noles that played their hearts out, as they always do. After all, that is what truly defines us as the great Seminole nation we are. Good luck the rest of the season Noles, and thanks for bringing a little piece of Florida State to Tampa for me!!!!!.. J

Nascar: More Than Just Fast Cars and Freedom

When a winter snow storm plowed through upstate New York last week, it pretty much sealed the fate of my appearance in Syracuse. Much like my flight... it was CANCELLATIONS, across the board. Determined to not let that put a damper on my weekend (and almost grateful for a week to thaw out from my recent jaunts to sports venues afar), I packed my bags and headed to one of the biggest sporting events the South has to boast… The Daytona 500. Before you begin your barrage of Deliverance references and launch into endless Jeff Foxworthy quotes, hear me out. There’s more to NASCAR than meets the eye. Sure, it may look like 43 cars… plus or minus a few at the end of the race…driving around in circles, but in reality the Daytona 500 truly is the Great American Race. 189 miles per hour around a 2.5 mile track, for two hundred laps. One cup, one car, one driver to take it all.

This year’s race began on a sour note, marked by scandal that most sports have dealt with at one point or another in their own personal histories… cheating. Don’t expect to see Herbie the Love Bug publishing a tell-all expose anytime soon, outing the cars that juiced before the big race… but… illegal substances in NASCAR???.. Now, I have seen it all. Officials only discovered the violation after someone performing a routine maintenance check on Michael Waltrip’s car, stuck their arm in the manifold, only to remove it covered in a foreign substance. It’s a good thing they don’t test the horses at the Derby this way… let alone professional athletes. :::shudders::: Then again, if that isn’t a deterrence to juicing, I dunno what is.

Cheating seems to be a central theme in the world today… everyone from Presidents to Barry Bonds is allegedly doing it. Since when did cheating become the norm? Hell, if parents these days don’t even bother to correct their kids for cheating at Candyland or Scrabble… how are they supposed to learn what they are doing really is wrong??? We as a society are so concerned with getting ahead, and getting what we want, we forget about the people we destroy to get there. We lie, we backstab, we just straight up deceive… all to get to the head of the pack. We cheat on tests, games, and sometimes even each other. In the end, no one really wins, because the trust is forever gone and the bond is forever damaged.

Sometimes it’s just better to live, learn, and move on. You let off the gas, slam down the clutch, and shift gears. You may stall the first few times, but you’ll get the hang of it eventually. Once it becomes fluid… you’ll be unstoppable.

The road of life isn’t a straightaway: It’s got curves, bumps, and dead ends. The dead ends aren’t there to discourage you, only to tell you that you’ve come as far as your predecessors have. The feeble minded will turn around thinking they made a wrong turn and go back to the monotony of their everyday lives never knowing what could have lay ahead. Others… the bolder models, will strike out, break away, and cut their own path. Sure, they could listen to the signs that tell them to turn around, or use caution… but what fun would that be?... Life was meant to be lived with a green flag, and those that pull the yellow-caution are only trying to slow you down.

I live my life at a fast pace, and a quarter-mile at a time. For that ten seconds or less, nothing else matters. It’s about me, my hopes, my dreams, and the feeling of the wind in my hair. Nothing but fast cars and freedom. My road has no predetermined destination, just the stops along the way. Folks can either come along for the ride or watch from the crowd. Because once this baby gets moving, there will be nothing left but dust and a license plate to remember me by.

People around us are forever trying to strap us to our seats, and playing traffic cop to make us slow down. But what if for once, you unbuckled the safety belt and took a risk on the unknown? No one got anywhere in life without taking risks on people, on love, and on life. So why settle for a diesel Rabbit, when you can have that dream car you always wanted. You know the one: that old sixty seven Vette you’ve coveted since the time you were old enough to drive your power wheels… with the bright candy apple red paint job and the white convertible top. How could you ever forget? Who says it has to be a dream… why not a reality? Christopher Reeves once said:

“So many of our dreams at first seem impossible, then they seem improbable, and then, when we summon the will, they soon become inevitable.”

Maybe we should all stop driving the way the voice in the backseat tells us to, taking the roads they choose for us, and just leave the driving to a higher power. Sure, you can fight the pull of the car, but in the end… who are you really kidding? Life’s funny like that, once you let go of the wheel… you might just end up right where you belong.

Week Two of the Jenn-X Road Show on Si.com.

This week on SI.com Jenn ventures to the Emerald City of Eugene, Oregon to take in the courtside view with the Pit Crew of the University of Oregon. As you’ll soon find out, these guys are out to prove that ducks are anything but lame.. and boy do they ever. Join Jenn along the journey as she meets and greets with famous faces at University of Oregon, and for the first time manages to meet the man that put her face on the map nearly two years ago--- Brent Musberger. It’s an episode you won’t want to miss… and its only on SI.com.

Jenn at Oregon

Up next week … Jenn braves 6 feet of snow and sub zero temps to join the Syracuse Orangemen in their heated college hoops rivalry against the UConn Huskies. So maybe its not cowboy hats and bikini weather, but we’ll see what kind of fun awaits Jenn as she takes upstate New York by storm… snow storm that is.

Get ready Cuse… it’s game time!!! Can your school make the grade?

Up Yours, Cupid...

I have never been a fan of Valentine’s day. Even back in grade school, there was always that fear of rejection—that at the end of the day, my Valentine’s day shoebox-turned-mailbox would be empty. I was awkward looking with really big curly hair. We are talking Whitney Houston “I want to Dance with Somebody Hair,” the kind that would make even the most voluminous of hair bands jealous. My parents swore it was gorgeous, and a blessing in disguise, and maybe if I would have been a teenager in the days of The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller, and St. Elmo’s Fire, I would have agreed. But alas, by the time I was old enough for fashion to have an impact on my life, the days of big hair were passé.

Body image aside, there was always something about Valentine’s Day that really frosted my cheerios. Maybe it was the belief that everyone had that special somebody but me. It’s only now that I am older that I realize I am not the only one jaded by this sappy holiday. Every year thousands of American’s sit around, waiting to be struck by Cupid’s arrow, and to find that one person they were destined to be with. Yet, every year, without fail it seems more of us are shooting our own something… and it certainly isn’t an arrow… at that stupid little cherub flying around in his pampers and little else.

But why are human beings so obsessed with being attached?... Are we that needy, insecure, and unfulfilled that we feel like we always have to have that special someone in our lives?

I recently had an old acquaintance of mine write me to tell me how happy they are that I have been able to accomplish as much professionally in the past year as I have, but felt that after reading some of my SI articles that I was cynical towards the idea of having a stable relationship and settling down. The letter closed with the ever-so-cliché “I really wish you the best of luck in all your future endeavors, and hope that someday you find the right person.”

WHAT?!?!... At first I blew it off, but the more I thought about it, the more heated I got. How dare they judge where I am at in life, and say that I am not happy?? How insulted would they be if I penned them a rebuttal:

“Dearest friend… I know you are married to your high school sweetheart, and claim to be happy with your cohabitation for the past 5 years of your life, but the fact of the matter is… you never got a chance to date around and explore all there was to be had in the relationship realm. How sad for you!! Dump your significant other while there is still hope, unbuckle the safety belt you have been restrained by and enjoy the crazy ride life has to offer. Because you would not want to be sixty and look back on life and go.. wow.. I never really knew what ‘living’ was like. Love ya, Sterg.”

Yeah, that would get a warm response now, wouldn’t it?

To my friends that are constantly hammering me with relationship questions, and pulling the.. ‘why don’t you have a boyfriend card’… I have this startling revelation: Maybe I AM happy being single! What is so wrong with that???... I don’t have to wake up to someone nagging me in the morning to get out of bed. In fact, I can get up at my own leisurely pace, make my breakfast, hell… I can crawl back in bed when I am done and just marinate on the day ahead of me. That’s right.. I’m absolutely miserable… being able to crawl back in bed and treat most days of the week as if they were a Sunday. The only thing that would make my life any more perfect is if there was football on every morning. So what if I stay in my pajamas all day long until I am ready to greet the world?... The only person I have to deal with face to face… is my cat.. and she doesn’t seem to mind the fact her mom crawls back in bed whenever she chooses, and takes the day as it comes at her.

February 14 has always been about the cards, the candy, and the flowers. I got news for you…the flowers die, the candy gets eaten, and the cards get recycled with next week’s newspaper. All you are left with is a fat ass and a bill from Hallmark. They are the only ones that really profit from this whole thing with their stupid cards that range anywhere from 99 cents to 5 dollars (but those are the cool singing cards). Damn them for creating this holiday that discriminates against us singletons that have no one to spend it with. At least the other holidays give you options. You know: Christmahanakwanzikah, Passover vs. Easter. I mean, at least you are given a choice. On Valentine’s day… you’re either attached or .. it blows. Those that are depressed about their love life can usually be found at the local pub drowning their sorrows in the “I’m sorry you don’t have a boyfriend/girlfriend drink specials” while others just stay at home and watch the TNT and TBS showing of every Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts, and Hugh Grant movie ever made. And this is supposed to be something to celebrate?.. You’re delusional.

So this Valentine’s Day I am announcing the creation of a new holiday for singles everywhere. The name is still in progress, but the idea of it goes something like this: This is a day to celebrate you. Take yourself to the nail salon, ladies, or buy yourself a new pair of Tiffany earrings. Why not??.. You deserve it. Men… it’s ok to buy yourself a steak dinner… and indulge in hours of ESPN Classics in HD from your leather recliner. Me?... my day will probably consist of all that and more, but the highlight of my day.. will be a haircut. There is something that is almost therapeutic to women worldwide in getting your hair done. It’s about being pampered, and feeling pretty.. but more so.. It’s about reinvention. This coming from a girl that has changed her haircolor to every color in the spectrum… including purple at one point or another. (Chill mom.. it’s called Eggplant.) My Valentine’s Day is all about taking chances, not only on my haircolor, but my life in general. So I don’t have that special someone to spend it with yet?... I’m in no hurry. After all, why settle for a hotdog when I can holdout for filet mignon?... Sure a microwavable hotdog is ready in an instant, but once you reached the last bite, even you don’t know what you REALLY just ate. A filet is nothing but the best.. the Grade A of partner material.. and that is what I want. There are plenty of guys out there that would “do”… but I would only be short changing myself. Prince Charming’s are few and far between, and the only thing you get from kissing toads is warts and dragon breath.

Maybe some women just weren’t meant to be tamed anyway. Maybe they were meant to run free until they find someone that can keep up and run wild with them. And maybe.. I’m ‘that’ girl. Sure, you can waste your time being a horse in the carousel of life, and ride the merry-go-round.. but the only place it gets you is right back to where you started from. Besides, riding around in circles is only fun if you like Nascar. I want to find the one person that makes me stand still. That is when I’ll know.. I’ve found “the one.”

So this.. is my Valentine’s gift to all those whose hands aren’t weighted down by a piece of metal. May we all raise our glasses together, and realize you don’t always need someone else to be happy and fulfilled. After all, how can you expect someone to love you, if you don’t love yourself??.. So maybe you don’t have a plus one on your party invites, or a table for two or more???.. Who gives a crap?... Make today about YOU.. and let the others worry about what to do with their dead flowers and love handles in a few days. At least you will look and feel fabulous… and if that isn’t something to declare a holiday over.. I dunno what is.

Besos, Jenn.

Jenn-X Road Show Wichita State video is online on SI.com On Campus

Hey all...just wanted to post a link to Jenn's newest road assignment with SI.com...Football is over, now it's time for basketball season!! Check out Jenn's visit to Kansas and the campus of Wichita State on the SI.com On Campus homepage...if it rolls off, check out the video links archive...

Next week, it's off to Oregon...what happened to warm weather locations??

Keep checking back for updates.

Roger - Admin

Moral Fiber… Not just a breakfast cereal.

You ever come across people in your life that you think you know.. but you really have NO idea???.. Not me. Once a naïve small town girl, the past year has really allowed me to see the world for how it truly is-- without the rose colored glasses. In the whirlwind that has been the past year and a half of my life, I have come across thousands of people in all kinds of professions, on both a professional and personal level. And in dealing with this melting pot of people, life has showed me to never judge a book by its cover, while at the same time to trust no one completely because no one can protect your own neck the way you can.

My friends say I have a gift of being able to read people. It’s like… I have ESP..N.. or something. I know their story better than they do. Sure at first it’s probably the cliff notes version, but I can sense whether I am meeting them.. or the “them” they WANT me to meet. Like Chris Rock, I believe that when you meet some one for the first time, “you really aren’t meeting them.. you’re meeting their representative.” It’s only later once you begin to interact and share with that person do you get a sense for who they are, of their true character, and moral fiber.

What is moral fiber you ask?.. I myself am still trying to figure that one out. It’s certainly not something you acquire from eating your oatmeal, whole wheat toast, and bran flakes every morning. No, moral fiber is a general outlook a person has on life, based on their own personal values. It’s what makes us for better or for worse individuals. But Moral fiber can be so much more…

I was laying in bed the other night when I came across “The Girl Next Door.” Sure it was on television so it was heavily edited with all the “good scenes” removed, but the gist was still the same: Boy meets girl. Boy falls for Girl. Boy finds out Girl used to be in Adult Film Industry. Boy insults girl and makes her leave for Vegas. Boy goes all the way to Vegas to find the girl, where she denies him. Girl comes back to boy. Boy’s life is inevitably changed because of girl.

Essentially, it’s the Risky Business of my generation.

As Tom Cruise was taught “sometimes you just have to say… what the @#$!,” Matthew learns the value of finding that greater something in life that you have to take a risk on. That risk he describes... is what he calls his “moral fiber.”

Moral Fiber...

So...What is Moral Fiber.....??
It’s funny....I used to think that it was always telling the truth, doing good deeds, u know basically....being a f@#$ing boy scout.......But lately I have been seeing it differently......Now I think that moral fiber is about finding that one thing you really care about..........that one special thing that means more to you than anything else in the world........and when you find her, you fight for her......you risk it all......you put her in front of everything......Your future.....your life...all of it......and maybe the stuff you do to help her isn’t so clean......you know what??? It doesn’t matter.......because in your heart you know, that .. The juice is worth the squeeze.
That’s what Moral Fiber is all about...

It really got me thinking. It’s not about always playing it safe, or doing what everyone else wants you to… it’s about defining who you are as a person: Your values to be happy, to live your life to the fullest, and to know that you can live your life free of any regret. Life is really all about risks, on opportunities, on people, and on life. And no one gets to the top without taking a risk every now and then. Sure, you can look down, see the staggering depths below you and get scared every now and then… and that is perfectly ok. People will always be scared of the unknown. But sometimes its that “it” factor that someone has to accomplish this greatness in whatever it is they do to overcome this unknown that describes their moral fiber.

It’s about finding that one thing in life that motivates you, whether it’s a person, a job, a possession, or an ideal… to be a better you. You will risk anything for it, its success, and future even if it means you may face some disappointments or hardships along the way. The hard times will only make you a stronger individual, and will make the good times seem that much sweeter, because you will know that the “juice was worth the squeeze.”

That… truly is moral fiber. It can’t be faked, it can’t be taught, it just.. IS. I guess that is how I can spot the fakers a mile away, and pull the sheep’s clothing from the wolves. There are just some characteristics and actions in life that define who we are as a person. Without them, even the richest of men is a poor one.

You will meet many people along your walk through life’s journey. It’s up to you to sort out the genuine’s from the make-believe’s.

Coming soon - new online video series with SI.com

Ladies and gentlemen, can I please have your attention. I've just been handed an urgent and horrifying news story. I need all of you, to stop what you're doing and listen…..

CANNONBALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!... No, I am completely kidding, but I figured my movie enthusiasts would appreciate the introduction. Actually, I am getting ready to start my all new online video series with SI.com. Jenn X-Road Trip follows me around the country to a different college city each week to show you the greatest in college rivalries and NCAA sporting venues. When I hit the road crazy things tend to happen that .. well.. you will just have to see to believe.

Toto, I don't think we're in Tallahassee anymore. That's right Shockers!... I’m coming to town the weekend of Feb. 2 to shoot my first basketball season roadtrip video for SI.com and I’m ready to take you on. What’s that special tradition or competition that visitors just have to try when they come to the campus? There’s gotta be something! And, no matter what it is, I’m sure I’m up for the challenge! So, not only will I be hanging around the school all weekend to find out how the Shockers do on the court and figure out the heartbeat of the campus, but I’ll also be ready to experience some Wichita State traditions. Just email me some suggestions and I’ll pick one to try. See you over the weekend! And PS.. I may need a guide.. so if you're the one in the "know"... show me why they say... there's "No place like home."

Other upcoming colleges include:

--Oregon

--Syracuse

--LSU

--N Carolina

… and a stint in Las Vegas.

Your school not on the list yet???.. Send me an email at my SI mailbag.. or a note on facebook or myspace.. and…tell me why your school is a must see college sports venue.. or one of the greatest college rivalries. I’ll be seeing you real soon!!!...

Besos, Jenn.

Gasparilla Piratefest with the Tampa Bay Devil Rays

YO HO YO HO.. A pirate’s life for me.

Minus the drink up me ‘earties yo ho part anyway. Instead of partaking in the alcohol induced madness, this cowgirl decided to forgo the traditional party scene in downtown Tampa (and along the Bayshore) and see it all from a perspective reminiscent of her high school marching band days… be in the festivities!! But why walk six miles when you can … ride it???..

This year I hitched a ride on the Devil Rays float and even traded in my boots and cowboy hat for some sportier digs. In full out rays gear, my girlfriends Brittany and Ashley helped me toss out beads along the parade route and show the rest of Tampa a great time at one of cities oldest traditions. We stopped along the way and took pictures with the Plant High School football team, who just capped off a great season last year, winning the State Championship, not to mention dozens of athletes, firefighters, police officers, and pirates.

So we weren’t exactly singing "Danke Schoen" or “Twist and Shout”… but a little “Maneater” with some beads and foam baseballs seemed to still do the trick… And our outfits certainly gave Ferris a run for his money.

The parade route was a lot shorter than I remember it being, but then again this time I wasn’t doing it in front of a marching band of 150, or in knee high cowboy boots. Overall, the parade was a great success and fun was had by all, even Raymond.

So, its been a long weekend of bead throwing, singing.. and all kinds of shenanigans.. and this girl needs her rest. Until next year Tampa…

Oh yeah.. and Go Rays!

New Year… New Me

Every year millions of Americans make resolutions to better their lives from the way it was the year before. Well, I am no different. Each year I get suckered into setting some completely unreasonable goal that I am supposed to have fulfilled by the time the ball drops 365 days later. Among my list of failures includes going to the gym every day, keeping my car washed, and making my bed. This year needs to be different. Instead of making over some physical aspect of my life, I want to overhaul my perception of it.

Ever since I was little my mother has dubbed me the pessimist of the family. And even back then I would respond: I’m not a pessimist, just a realist. I gave up on thinking that everything in life could really be a lot worse than it was, and dwelled on what my life was missing and what would fill the voids.

Fast forward to 2007, I am twenty three. I am unmarried. Without kids. And back at home as I finish up my last credit hours of undergrad, while continuing my work with CNNSI. And it suits me just fine. Why the new lease on life? I just figure it was time to drop the baggage that has been plaguing me for the past few years of my life.
The past two years of my life have been nothing but chaotic, but they have forced me to live outside the box in both my thinking, my planning, and my general views on life. I’ve come to realize I don’t have to view things in only black and white… or even shades of gray. My life is in color. A huge messy palette of color. I may not always like everything about the picture, in all its individual parts, but when I step back and view it as a whole; I realize it’s the big picture that counts.

2006 brought me more than I could ever imagine. I loved, I laughed, and I lost, while all the while not losing sight of who I am. I realize that not everyone in life will like me, or my views, and while some may love me others will wish I would just step in font of a bus. And that’s perfectly fine. You can’t please everyone, nor can you expect them to please you. It’s not logical. Besides if you sit around and wait for others to make you happy, you will only wind up disappointed.

I’m eternally grateful for the things, people, and opportunities God has bestowed upon my life in the past year. I’ve discovered my life is really just a bus that’s still in route to an unknown destination. Some will get on my bus and may get off after a block or two, while others may stick around for the ride in all its crazy twists and turns. The ones who prove themselves untrue???.. Well, their pass to ride this bus has expired.

On being single… it’s really not as bad as it looks. Honestly, I doubt there are many men in this world that could possibly understand where I am at in life or what I do. How can I expect them to?.. They see the pictures. That is all. They don’t know me. They see the push up bras, the make up, the boots, and a hat. End of story. When I show up to a date in no make-up, my sweats, and the hair tucked under a baseball hat, that’s when they get the real me. I’m not trying to scare them into thinking I look like the crypt keeper, but I am not gonna falsely advertise who I am outside of “work.” So many of my friends jumped into ill-fated marriages, and some went as far as to think adding a plus one to their family would make the situation better? Who are they kidding? We’re young and still figuring out who we are, and you can’t do that if you are with someone that makes you be something you are not.

Losing love hurts, but so does caring about someone that can’t have the same feelings for you. People often begin relationships with all kinds of emotional baggage they refuse to part with from previous relationships. How can you expect to move into the future if your past is present? We all have our pasts, our ex’s, and our memories, but you can’t base your current situation off of previous ones or they will be doomed to fail from the start. When it comes to relationships, maybe we're all in glass houses, and shouldn't throw stones. Because you can never really know someone else’s life and feelings unless you put yourself in their shoes. Some people are settling down, some are settling, and some people refuse to settle for anything less. And I choose to settle for nothing less than “butterflies” and a smile every time I see my other half. I will not subject my self to remain in a situation that makes me anything but happy. I want a guy that realizes its not grand gestures that prove I am his life, but the little things to let me know I am the first thing he thinks of when he rolls out of bed, and the last thing he dreams of before falling asleep. I know that there will be times when one or both of us want out, but I can guarantee that if I didn’t at least try and give it a shot I could spend the rest of my life wondering... what could have been because being my stubborn self, I would never admit that he was really the one for me.

“What if Price Charming had never shown up? Do you think Snow White would have just laid there in that glass box forever? Hardly. She would have sat up, spit out the apple, gotten a job, a health care plan, a new hair cut, and moved on with her life.”

Besides, who needs a Prince when you have friends and family like mine? Because no matter who broke your heart, or how long it takes to heal, you will never get through it without them.

The glass is only as full as you let life pour it. You can cover the lid and say “when” or you can come back and ask for seconds. Because when it comes to life, there is no such thing as an overindulgence of “living,” only the regret that you didn’t live enough before last call came around. 2006 left my cup a little on the empty side, but 2007 begs to be different. I have new friends, new opportunities, and a new lease on life. And maybe if I am lucky… someday my Prince will quit being stubborn long enough to quit being lost... stop and ask for directions.

I wouldn’t bet on it.

Florida State’s Thursday night game at N.C. State taught me a valuable lesson in life: It’s not whether you win or lose, just don’t bet against Chuck Amato. Amato, despite embarrassing losses against Akron (17-20) and Southern Miss (17-37), came out the victor of ESPN’s televised game against my Noles. He may not win games against unranked teams, but has had Bobby’s number four out of seven times the two teams have met over the past 7 years. Even if he did debo’ his FSU playbook upon his departure from Florida State in 2000, Amato’s Wolfpack won, fair and square, courtesy of an interception thrown by Drew Weatherford late in the fourth quarter. So, if you heard a girl screaming all kinds of obscenities and throwing chicken wings at her television set on Thursday night, it was probably me. Sorry about that. I wasn’t cursing at my offensive coordinator, or my team, but at myself. Because that night, the Noles and I had something in common besides our preference for garnet and gold: We had both lost.

The final score of that night’s game left a bad taste in my mouth, and a sick feeling in my stomach, worse than that time I ate a Hot Pocket. Sure, my Noles had fallen, and while that alone is enough to make one ill, my stomach illness was a prelude more from what I knew was to come. My fate was to be nearly as bad as those public tar and feathering sessions from back in the day: I had to return to the Swamp.

Before Seminole loyals go about chastising me, or saying I have fallen to the “dark side” of Florida football, I don’t exactly enjoy visiting this town, but did so because of my job assignment. In case you didn’t read last week's SI article, I spent last Saturday’s college gameday in Gainesville, or as most Seminole fans affectionately refer to it as.. Hogtown. While, most fans treated me pretty kindly, some definitely were asking for a swift kick in the ass courtesy of my cowboy boots. Still, I didn’t bash them, or resort to the typical gator jokes (ie. Mullets, jean shorts, and the like). Instead of sinking to their level, I simply stated the facts: The Gators are pretty good this year.. No, actually, they might be the best. ;) (Right, CJ?)

This trip to Gainesville, however, was not for an assignment. It was because I lost a bet. Given the fact I write about sports, and what not, I am not the type of girl to be going around placing money on my “picks.” Public humiliation however… is a different story.  Usually, my picks are pretty solid, but this time however, I was off. While I had picked the spread pretty accurately, I simply chose the wrong team.
So my Friday night was spent in what Gator fans consider their sanctuary, Ben Hill Griffin Stadium. Surrounded by Orange and Blue, I witnessed the event that takes place every year during Florida homecoming called “Gator Growl.” My friends that I had lost the bet to had tried their best to get me to wear blue and orange that night as a part of the terms, but I told them the only way that would happen is if I was wearing a blue shirt, and happened to throw up the cheese covered nachos I had eaten earlier. So I went incognito instead, mourning my Seminoles loss in the traditional fashion, or perhaps preparing for Boston College in a few weeks: ALL BLACK.

The night began with a huge University of Florida Sports lovefest: call out the teams, introduce the seniors, and brag about their National Championship basketball team (more to come in my assessment of this years college tourney). Let’s see if their bragging credentials hold up this time around.

Then came the first of two comedians, Gabriel Iglesias. I’ll call this guy the fat guy in the Hawaiian shirt. He was actually pretty funny, as he assessed the college night life almost to the tee, and ripped sorority girls at UF a new one. But he was my fave for another reason. Fluffy man was just as good at sound effects as the guy from Police academy (can’t remember name). Mad props to Fluffy.. he was great.
Then came some musical numbers that still have me going.. WTF was THAT? Any one else heard a country solo rendition of Nelly’s “Ride Wit Me?” When he asked, “If you wanna go and take a ride with me”… I was like.. “yeah.. in a tractor.”

The skits that followed were a bad attempt at SNL’s Nightly News. While the guy’s punch line delivery was pretty solid, the girl’s to say the least… needed more work than a Nip Tuck patient. The crowd even booed her once or twice. Needless to say, I am glad she is a smart girl, because I don’t see her replacing Tina Fey anytime soon.
The final act was comedian, Jim Gaffigan. Funny guy, but I had already heard most of his skits on XM Comedy channel. So, I was like.. feed me something other than a hot pocket?..

Needless to say, I apparently wasn’t the only one kinda bummed by the Gator Growl experience. Many of their fans left there saying they felt gypped.’ There were countless shots on FSU, Miami, and other rivals schools, some of which even I laughed at. I was even half waiting for the token joke of Mr. two bits versus FSU’s version called.. (well there are two and they rhyme with bits). But it never came. No knocks on the cowgirl, and I escaped pretty unscathed.

I did find one element of the night’s festivities pretty interesting. Hell, even I stood and applauded. Urban Meyer came out and introduced this year’s seniors, including Quarterback Chris Leak. Even I stood up and clapped for this one, because despite the nasty hits he has taken, both on and off the field, Leak has been nothing but a modest team player from the beginning of his career at UF. And even a Nole can appreciate good sportsmanship like that, regardless of what team he plays for. It was nice to see the GatorNation give the kid the love he deserves. Though fellow quarterback Tim Tebow was featured in the majority of the prerecorded skits, it was Leak that stole the spotlight that night. The players then lead the crowd in “We Are the Boys from Old Florida,” something of which they have never been able to do. And while sure, part of me laughed watching grown ass men hug on each other and sway to music, the other part looked around the stadium as they entire crowd moved with the lyrics.. and I must say, its pretty impressive. I’m sure someone, somewhere saw the black speck that was me, not swaying and said.. “yeah.. she lost a bet allright.”
So, I made it out of the Swamp alive twice in as many weeks, and without being recognized except for my walk of shame to the car. Hopefully, this will be my last journey into enemy territory for a while… or at least until basketball season.
One thing is for sure though: I am not betting on any more college football games this year, especially against Amato. The events that unfolded in Raleigh are testament to the fact that anything can happen, and that underdogs can in fact rule the day. So maybe Chuck Amato isn’t “The Man,” like he claims, but at least he can keep his job for next year, and not have to take his little dogs and Ruby Slippers back to Kansas. And as for me after my visit to Gainesville.. well.. there’s really no place like home.

Online Store now open

ADMIN Update -

Hey all...Well, I am pleased to announce that the Online E-Store is now open via eBay. Come on in and check out some cool specials on official CowgirlNation and Jenn Sterger shirts, posters and other miscellaneous stuff. New stuff will be added frequently, so keep checking back!

All new Gallery updates coming this weekend!!

ADMIN UPDATE:

Finally, after thousands of requests, Jenn is extremely excited to present to her fans 4 additional galleries of all new, never before seen, exclusive photos to enjoy. Check back this weekend to the Gallery page to see the new updates. Enjoy!!

Jenn's Guide to Football season: Part One -- The Super Fan

I couldn't help but laugh as I watched Monday night football and saw Darth Vader cheering in the Raiders stands. Maybe his son plays for the team, but last time I checked, "quarterback young Skywalker not." Still, I smiled. This, ladies and gentlemen, is one of the reasons I live for sports: the Super fan. Hell, even Mr. Two Bits gets a round of applause from me, and that says a lot coming from a 'Nole. There is something about being in the sports experience and sitting with people that embody the spirit of an entire stadium in themselves.

The Glitter boys, the Animals, The Penn State White Out (AKA.. The entire student section), Mr. Head.. Hell, even FIU had some guy that was dressed in blue and gold wrestling tights like a lightweight Nacho Libre. Every school has their own breed of super fan, and those that don't.. should.

One year after its creation, this Warchant-dubbed "Cowgirl's" boots are still kicking, and have a new generation of girls by my side, with hearts of garnet and gold. I often have girls write me and ask.. "How do I become a cowgirl?" Sure, I could just tell them you need a cute smile and great rack, and that could be all the qualifications required.. but I would be lying. Some people criticize us and say you have to have a nude spread to be a Cowgirl and a below average GPA to undergo cowgirl training.. (Buzzer).. EHHHHH!.. Wrong again there. Being a Cowgirl is so much more. Like any other "super fan", as we are referred to, its about capturing the excitement and essence of what its like to be the sports fan. Sure we wear cute outfits, but if you ask my girls what to do on fourth and long, they aren't going to cock their head to the side like the RCA dog. Contrary to popular belief, you can be a female, a decent looking one at that and still know a thing or two about sports.

Super fans catch a lot of hell for doing what they do, and it’s not all fun and Maxim shoots. My Cowgirls take a lot of hell for dressing like they do, people saying its all for the publicity. If that's the case, you probably wouldn't have bothered to notice when we went out to support the FSU Rugby team, the Phi Delt and Pikes intramurals, or when we would be sitting in the rafters of the Civic Center in just our sweats and baseball hats watching basketball. Or when we went to the Spring football game in spite of crappy weather, or hung out and watched the team’s practice scrimmages from a distance after running stadiums at the Doak. It’s simply us taking an interest in our great athletics programs, and what makes our University a great place to spend four years of your life, only to become a ‘Nole for a lifetime. My girls are class acts and treat everyone with respect, because well, that's how they have been raised. They are simply put.. good people. Hell, if they can impress someone like White Dade after his meeting them in person, they can impress anyone. It's not about trying to be the hottest girl on campus; it’s about being among the hottest girls on campus that aren’t afraid to hang with the boys, get dirty, drink a little beer, and talk some sports. And anyone that has met CJ and Allison can vouch for that.

Still..In a recent trip to USF, and a subsequent lurking on their boards, I realized that a group there endures a lot of the same dramas that I do: The Beef Studs. They are often accused of using their superfandom as shameless self promoting, and doing it all for their own recognition. This is absolute BULL @#$% !!!.. (No pun intended.) If they really wanted national recognition, do you think they would be hanging out at a USF game?.. Let's be real. It's all about repping your school, your colors, and your pride. And no one can fault them or any other super fan for that. If that's the case, are you going to tell me that Mr. Two Bits has been doing all of his routines for publicity? No way... he's eighty four years old and isn't exactly trying to get noticed to become the next member of Baywatch. He is there because he loves his Gators!!! (Hey, I never said he wasn't suffering from dementia!!)

In every sense, the Super fans job is to remind everyone that when the going gets tough.. put on your man panties.. get out there.. and get your @$$ back in the game!!!!.. I am a firm believer in a fan's ability to win the game. Its like having an extra guy in the backfield (and no.. I am not talking Canadian football, but you kids have fun, eh?), a sixth man on the court, and that comeback kid in the bull pen, ready to close the door and get that save.

So as you can see, being a "Cowgirl" is more than a hat.. It’s an attitude.

And.. no Drew, I didn't forget the Animals.. ;)