It hit me the other night. I was watching the Knicks sh*t the proverbial bed in game five and I tweeted "Will the teams I like ever not suck?" And then I laughed to myself, as I often do, and thought I should really be asking "Will the guys I date ever not suck?" And then I realized, they are essentially the same thing. My taste in men is directly related to my taste in sports teams. That does not bode well for my future, or my mother's wish for more grandchildren.
See, I'm a New York fan, through and through. Jets, Mets, Knicks. If you know anything about sports you'll know that's a trifecta of heartbreak. Much like the men who catch my eye, they are good on paper but not exactly a happy-ever-after. There will ultimately be some quirky demise that I can laugh about 2-4 weeks later, much like this.
The Knicks are the too-cool-for-school guy that is pretty cocky, but so friggen cool that you keep answering his texts even though you shouldn't. He'll talk a big game, even make a grand gesture or two, but in reality, he can't close the deal. Always taking it to game seven, amirite? He is the one your mother warned you about and the one you yell at your friends for talking to. He's showy and self-absorbed, but when he is on his game, you quickly forget all of the things that make him an actual jerk, like this.
The Jets. Ugh. Possibly the worst heartbreakers of all. They are the guy that you've given far too many chances because they continually make really dumb decisions (like this) and each time you think, "they can't possibly top last time," and then they do. I've been threatening to quit the Jets for about three years now and still have yet to cut the chord. Now I'm to the point where I've put in so much leg work, dedicated so much time, do I really want to throw that all away? I made it through the foot fetish and the terrible Tebow-era, for heaven's sake! Am I passed the point of no return? Then I see this and it reminds me that it's never too late.
And finally we reach the Mets. The guy who just wants to win, but literally never does. He's got a little Eeyore-syndrome. A complex about the cooler, richer, more attractive guy from that other boro. He's nice and he's cute, but he has no edge. You're not-so-patiently waiting for him sweep you off your feet and show you that he is in-fact a major league guy. But he doesn't and probably won't. Instead he continues to do things that embarrass you a little but he's never actually done anything all that bad to make you delete his number and untag all of those Facebook photos.
Except for maybe this.