Confessions of a (kinda) pink hat

Below you will see a self- portrait. It’s a pink hat wearing a pink hat wearing a pink hat (in case you couldn’t tell.)

I readily admit it: I don’t really know a lot about sports. Despite living within close proximity of Gillette, I have yet to attend a single Pats game, or step foot in the adjacent Bass Pro Shops.

I’m trying though, I really am. I read Barstool and practice forming opinions (kmarko sucks.) I GTA on the daily. (Cameron Diaz is my default guess because eventually I’ll be right.) And aside from golf, I don’t think I’ve ever uttered or thought the phrase “this is boring” while watching or attending a sports game.

Because sports aren’t boring, they’re a testament to human creativity, endurance, and nobility.

Bored on that Great Plains crossing? Blow up a buffalo bladder and BAM dodge ball. Form two teams and BAM you’ve got a rivalry. Add some buffalo chips and BAM you’ve got poo slinging that makes Anthony Weiner’s press conference look like a Hasbro commercial.

Even someone who isn’t straight on all of her hometown players can appreciate the sheer amount of history and entertainment that sports have contributed to global culture.

And that’s where I’m at right now. At least I have some integrity about my ignorance.

With that said, you might see me speed- striding across campus with my laptop, fighting other broads for the last scoop of Quinoa salad, and murdering my GWS class and think: “That is definitely not the type of girl I could bring to a Sox game.”

Wrong. I am so down. I love those foot long hotdogs, and would relish every bite. I would quickly develop a genuine hatred for the other
team (unless of course that team had just beaten the Yankees in which case I would adopt an incrementally smaller hatred.) If that team happened to be the
Yankees I would speak exactly how a lady should speak at a Sox vs. Yanks game—not like a lady at all. When we bump into your buddy from Northeastern
wearing a flat brim I will help you heckle him. I won’t ask you anything that I can’t Google, unless it is ABSOLUTELY necessary to my understanding of what is happening on the field.

And I won’t try to hold your hand until at least the 7th inning.

It’s important that pink hats remain distinguishable from Jersey Chasers, although there will always be crossover. Just because a girl asks a guy if he plays a sport does not mean she’s the type to lie down at the sight of a number.

Personally, I find people with interests interesting, and asking the infamous sports question is one way of finding out where your passions lie (if you have any passion…please have at least some passion.)

Me: Do you play a sport?

Guy: I play golf.

Me: Yeah, but do you play a sport?

Guy: *Looks disgusted*

Ok, so that was a fail. But I still contend he would have thought it was funny had he been like 2 more drinks in. C’est la vie. Viva La Stool.

Ou est mon chapeau?!

One thought on “Confessions of a (kinda) pink hat

  1. Pingback: That’s enough, Tom Brady |

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