Yesterday was Grey Cup day, Saskatchewan vs. Winnipeg playing in the big stadium. It was a Father/Son/Girlie chili evening. I’m not a football fan. I don’t even understand the game, and normally Ian isn’t much into the spectator sports. But he’s a guy, so he catches every major final that comes his way. I just let him do his thing yesterday as he puttered around the house and garage, and then made dinner. Poured me a glass of wine once the meal was made and told me to join them at half-time. And I did leave the office, because who did I hear emanating from our spanking new TV?
What?! Was this a Canadian event? What was he doing there? Why did I care, as long as he was?! He was fantastic, and even though it was only about three songs, it was such a treat to see. He had a bit of plumber butt showing every so often, much to the amusement of L.
With all this hootin’ and hollerin’ (not from yours truly) going on during the game, this championship thing got me thinking. Why is it so important to aim for number 1? What is it that drives us to try to be the best at everything? Why do we have this innate need to be the first, to achieve the top rank? In class, in sports, at work, at life?
Given a choice, would you not want a number one ranking over being in last place?
So much pressure, so much stress.
Maybe it would just be easier if one stank at everything one did.
Stank perhaps, as in as rank as the mossy underwear sitting in the pile festering in the corner of my bathroom. You'd think we had some Grey Cup players living in this place.
I think I need to do some laundry.