How My Mom Cost the Sounders Their Game

Here is my scathing weekly Sounders post-game report.

They tied.

Which, considering that they were trailing until the last 20 minutes of the game, should be a positive. Except that right after we scored for the second time, making it 2-1, my mother expressed sympathy for the "poor" Vancouver goalie who'd just conceded two goals in less than five minutes. "I just feel so bad for him!" she said. "I wish there didn't have to be a loser!" You could have counted the seconds between when she said that and when Ozzie Alonso did a horrible job of settling the ball after a pass in the goal box and Vancouver scored. Our reactions:

Here's a familiar sight: Fredy Montero not scoring

Me: NOOOO! I WANT TO CRY!
Mom: Are you kidding me?!
Michael: THANKS, MOM! 

It really was her fault. And this wasn't the first time, either. When I was younger, long before the Sonics got shipped to Oklahoma City, she made a habit out of feeling gut-wrenchingly sorry for Shaq whenever he drew a foul and missed his free throws. It was like for those two shots my mother became president of the Shaquille O'Neal Fan Club.

"You got what you wanted, Mom," Michael said after the game tonight. "You did say you wished there didn't have to be a loser." "I know," she answered, "and now I feel awful!" "You should feel awful!" I shouted. "You should feel like crap!" Now, many of you may be incredulous that I wished guilt upon my mother in such a state of fury. But this is true: she really did cost us the game. And she knows it. I offer as proof this exchange that just took place:

Mom: Goodnight, Liv.
Me: 'Night, Mom. Thanks for screwing up our game.
Mom: I promise I'll never feel sorry for the other team again.
Me: I'm going to hold you to that.
Mom: I'm sure you will.
Me: I hope you can sleep tonight.
Mom: I'll have a hard time. But I know my family will forgive me.
Me: No. No, we won't.

Such love in this family. Such love.

Addendum
When I woke up this morning, the first thing I said to my dad was this: "Do you know what your wife did last night?" "I told him," my mom said, "and I still feel terrible. I kept waking up last night thinking, Why did I say that?"


I think she feels sufficiently rotten. My work here is done.