My buddy Jack is the kind of sports fan who owns more hats than logic. He lives in a constant state of playoff panic, coaches from the couch, and believes in something called “the law of averages,” which—spoiler alert—isn’t real. Here’s how a chat with Jack turns into a play-by-play of emotional exhaustion.
My friend Jack never learned to enjoy the moment. He’s a huge sports fan. He has a shirt and ball cap for all of the teams he roots for. He’s not only a strong fan for his teams, but if he could cast a voodoo spell he try to work his magic potion on the teams he hates. Here’s how a conversation with Jack might go.
Ray: “Hey, Jack. What’s up?”
Jack: “The Sox lost last night. I hate it when they lose to the Yankees.”
Ray: “It’s a long season.”
Jack: “The Celtics are playing tonight. You want to come over and watch it with me?”
Ray: (That’s the last place I’d want to go tonight) “Sorry, Jack. I’ve made other commitments.”
Jack: “I’m questioning the starting lineup. I think the coach should start Hennessy over Jones.”
Ray: (Jack never coached a sport in his life and now he’s an expert?) “What the coach is doing seems to be working.”
Jack: “That’s just it. You got to play the law of averages.”
Ray: (There’s no such thing as the law of averages, it’s false logic). “I don’t get it, Jack. Why not stay with a winning combo?”
Jack: “I hope you don’t go to Vegas with that logic, Ray.”
Ray: (Who wins in Vegas? The casino’s). Good point, Jack. I’ve got to run.”
Jack: “See yah, Ray. I’ve got to check out the starting pitchers for the Sox tomorrow. It’s a big series.”
