An avowed Philly Phan, No Mas‘ Large was pulling for the Giants Sunday night, an experience he describes as “like I got ridiculously drunk and hooked up with some girl I’ve always hated”. Imagine how much more Jeremy Shockey would’ve enjoyed the game if he’d taken that approach?
I honestly can’t remember ever feeling the same way about any other of my sworn sporting enemies. Cowboys – no way. Celtics – uh, no. Mets – no. Well, maybe a little with the Mets. 2006 NLCS against the Cards after Endy Chavez made that catch, I remember thinking, “you know they deserve it, I hope they pull it out.” But then when they lost, it was like, “ah fuck it, I love it when the Mets lose.”
I guess what this Giants thing boils down to is that the enemy of your enemy can indeed become your very close friend. Nevertheless I just want the universe to go on notice that this shit is not permanent. There’s this great Richard Pryor routine, much beloved by me and Morty Bravo, in which he talks about mourning the death of his pet monkeys on the back steps of his house when his neighbor’s Doberman jumps the fence and comes over to console him (ah, the visions of a freebasing genius). Usually this dog terrorizes Pryor on a daily basis, but on this occasion he sees Richard crying and puts their feud on hold to offer his support.
After they’ve talked, though, as he’s walking back towards his yard, he turns around and says, “Hey Rich.” And Pryor says, “What?” And the Doberman says, “You know I’m a be chasing you again tomorrow right?”