Let Me Tell You a Little Something About Spirit

Today is College Spirit Day at my stepson's school. And while most of the little homos will likely be running around wearing Kansas, Kansas State or Missouri apparel, my almost-nine-year-old will be in his Juice Williams jersey.

Of course, we all know that this has nothing to do with the children; rather it's about the kids' parents and their college affiliations. It's kind of like the mock elections held at elementary schools across the country every four years as a U.S. Presidential election nears. "The kids choose Obama!" Like they've studied the fucking issues. It's much more of a measure of how their parents have rubbed off on them. Likewise, try asking Dominic what he thinks about Ron Zook coming back next year to lead to 2010 Illini. And does he think Jacob Charest should be the starting QB heading into next year? He's likely to respond to those questions with the same kind of reaction I get when trying to help explain his homework. Perhaps like all third-graders, he doesn't care what the right answers are, and he doesn't give a shit how we've gotten to them.

But I do have to wonder if there are any teachers at Horizon Elementary who spot that orange #7 jersey today and think, "Shit, that kid's dad is having a rough season." Surely I'm not the only person who thinks that way. I just can't believe how passive some people are about sports, especially with college affiliations. My father-in-law, for example, can't understand why I get so freaking pissed when he sends me texts after Iowa Hawkeyes victories, updating me on their record and including an obligatory "Go Hawks!" Luckily, I haven't had to see one of those gut-wrenching messages in a few weeks. For the same reason he sends those messages, he should easily understand why I fucking loathe receiving them: Because I don't want his god damn school to win!

That's what spirit is about, having your kids wear your school colors and looking at people who wear your enemy's colors and telling them to go fuck themselves (although it's usually unspoken). No smiles and wishes of good luck. I wish ill will upon my enemies.

And, by the way, Dominic had absolutely no say in what he wore to school today.