The third hotel Devlin and I visit, 15 miles from the Cove where our Cabin is located, has a TV.

A big one.

“Will the Celtics-Lakers game be playing?” I ask the twenty-something girl behind the counter.

“Funny you should ask,” she says. “A couple of Laker Fans came by earlier to ask about the game. I’m sure it will be on.”

Laker Fans.

My arch-nemesis. Like Nazis to Indiana Jones. Newman to Seinfeld.

Laker Fans. Why'd it have to be Laker Fans...

Patch is at my shoulder.

“Finally, a showdown with dreaded Laker fans,” he says. “Have them drive up in that yellow convertible I was talking about…and they should be eating sushi and talking about movie production deals.”

I shoo Patch away.

To be honest, I’m kind of looking forward to the idea of having Laker fans in attendance. It’ll no doubt add energy and good-natured razzing to the proceedings. And besides, I’ll be covered regardless of the outcome. If the Celtics win, I have someone at whom I can wag a “we’re number one” finger. If the Celtics lose, I can still offer a parting shot of: “I’m not worried. The Celtics will take care of business in Game 7.”

The lounge is custom-made for Game 6 – a widescreen 40-inch television and two plush couches, side by side. Celtic Fans go on one side, Laker fans go on the other. Perfect.

Devlin and I arrive a few minutes before game time, Devlin in his green Ray Allen jersey and me decked out in my Larry Bird home whites and Celtics cap. I spread out the various snack treats purchased at a nearby convenience store – cookies, ring dings, Twinkies, m&ms, peanuts, soda, swizzle sticks. As the teams are being introduced, I hear a man’s voice in the hallway.

“I don’t want to miss it,” the voice says.

I feel a surge of expectation.

“Let’s expedite our movement, Mabel!”

In the doorway is an elderly couple – no less than late-70’s, I’m guessing. They’re dressed well – her in what I can only describe as a frock, and he in a white Polo and gray suit pants. They look like people rich enough have a million clothing options, but too old to care about exercising them.

It takes them a while to reach the couch across from us.

“Here for the game?” the old man says.

I nod.

“I’m Stuart,” he says. “This is my wife Mabel. Who you rooting for?”

Devlin and I dead pan each other. Apparently the jerseys aren’t enough.

“Boston,” I say.

“Oh, Boston,” he says. “You like lobstah?” He lets out a sickly laugh. “And Chowdah?”

“I do,” I say. “But we live in Chicago now.”

“Oh, Chicago,” he says. “You like…” He leans toward his wife. “Mabel, what do they like in Chicago?”

Mabel hums, as if her body automatically makes this noise when she thinks.

“I don’t know,” she says. “They eat normal food. Chicago-style pizza?”

“Ah,” Stuart says, turning to us. “You like Pizza?” Again with the laugh.

“Yes,” I say. “I’m pretty sure other parts of the country do too.”

Stuart is distracted by the tip off.

“Oooo,” he says. “Looks like we’re starting, Momma.”

I never understood men who call their wives Momma. It’s creepy. How do you have sex with a woman you call Momma? Maybe you don’t. I guess in your late-70’s, sex is a distant memory anyway.

Stuart’s first act is to hand me the remote.

“Could you do me a favor and turn on the captions?” he says, then points to a device lodged in his ear. “This damn thing hasn’t worked right in almost a decade.”

“Can’t we just turn up the volume?” I say.

“What?” he says.

“Nevermind,” I say.


Travelling: Intro / Book Jacket, Chapter 1: Cribbagegate, Chapter 2: Two e-mails, Chapter 3: Pattern, Chapter 4: Shattered, Chapter 5: Hilarious Pee, Chapter 6: Suicide, Chapter 7/8: Coaching High school, Shark attacks and appetizers, Chapter 9: June, Chapter 10: 18 and oh no, Chapter 11: DNA, Chapter 12: Peanut Butter Sandwiches, Chapter 13: Tom Brady and the McGuffin, Chapter 14: Game 1, Chapter 15: Who the H is John Havlicek?, Chapters 16 - 17, Chapter 18: Game 2: Great White, Chapter 19: Pickle, Chapter 20: Marty McFly, Chapter 21 / 22: standard deviation, all the pretty flowers, Chapter 23: Game 3: Black Hills, Chapter 24: Twister, Chapter 25: Game 4, Chapter 26: Patriotic Agony, Chapter 27: Locusts, Chapter 28: skype, Chapter 29: Click, Chapter 30: Superman, Chapter 30: Ass Brunch Chapter 32: Mammoth, Chapter 33: Pathetic, Chapter 34: Purple and Gold, Chapter 35: Chowdah, Chapter 36: Mastermind

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Blogger Dan B. said...

Anonymous JJ said...
I agree with the "Momma" thing. Similarly, I've never understood "Who's your daddy" when used from man to woman. Do people really want to be her daddy and have sex with her? If so, that's pretty disturbing.

Blogger AnacondaHL said...
I think it's short for "Momma/Daddy of my children", or "Baby Mama", etc.

You angered Native American spirits AND messed with the elderly?! I'm not even surprised the Celtics lost anymore.

Blogger AnacondaHL said...
Oh, the "who's your daddy" thing is a simple exploit on a generalization of most daughter's fucked up relationships with their Dad. Jeez, may as well question why some people get off on spanking, or why people can't tell Superman is Clark Kent w/o glasses.

Blogger Evil Ted said...
Anac - Don't forget screwing with the boy scouts. That sounded dirty, but it wasn't.

Blogger Rhett said...
and inducing flagrant fouls in a youth league. oh yeah, and using your hat as a bartering chip so you could have the privilage of doing some ladies laundry. oh, and the buying laker jewelry. oh and, oh nevermind, the list is too long to peck out on my phone.

Blogger Evil Ted said...
Rhett - Nice to see you're paying attention. The best is yet to come.


Blogger lordhenry said...
ET, you are actually making my life as a Laker fan easier right now--with this story, I can jog down memory lane to a time where the Lakers win the title, as opposed to getting swept by the Mavs.

Also, I get to relish the pain of a Celtics fan along the way, albeit a fictional one.

You are a masochist aren't you?

Anonymous Koggz said...
Oh ET, tempting the fates so, you are such a tease (ironically, my captcha is atese). In retrospect, were Dougs sacrifices worth the possible karmic aftermath of a Laker victory? I say yes, but only cuz I'm a Laker fan.

Perhaps we should photoshop Doug into the 2010 Laker championship banner for his universal and spiritual contributions haha.

Alright I'll stop. Reliving these must be a nightmare to you.

Blogger Evil Ted said...
Koggs - This tome is my sweet revenge! Just as good as the Larry O'Brien trophy!

But not really.

Blogger Rhett said...
now I only wonder if you had a voodoo doll od rondo and accidently stepped on its arm . . .