Monday, January 28, 2008

Rebounding is all about positioning, timing, and effort…it has nothing to do with size

We are in the middle of another college basketball season. Living in the state in which I went to college, and sharing the state with other universities having no basketball heritage, I get to see almost all my team’s games on TV. In my younger days, I used to pace the house and regularly yell at the TV. Essentially I was a coach with (fortunately) no power. With age, a few (or more) crushing defeats, a little less beer, and now having other members of the household, I have mellowed a bit. However, a few times a game I will be provoked to yell something at the TV.

I know what you are thinking: Is this blog still about a dog or is this now the worst written sports blog on earth? How does this relate to Couper?

Well, it seems that Couper gets a little freaked out by this…

Big Buddy: {At the television} GET A G*#&@~N REBOUND!!!

Couper: {Suddenly looking at Big Buddy} What’s with Big Buddy? He’s awfully mad. What does he want? A rebound? What’s a rebound? I have a Mr. Hiney. He never calls that a rebound. I better get him a rebound. Whatever that is.

Big Buddy: {Again at the TV} GET THE BALL!!!

Couper: {Stops looking for a rebound, whatever that is, and looks again at Big Buddy} Oh, now my Big Buddy wants me to get a ball. I know what a ball is. But he and my mommy always want me to leave balls outside. I am always told to “drop it” when I try to bring a golf ball or tennis ball into the house. I’m confused. I have a Mr. Hiney. We’re playing with that. How come that isn’t OK anymore? Why am I in trouble??? What did I do???

Big Buddy: {At the TV of course} PLAY SOME DEFENSE!!!

Couper: {Stops thinking about how to go outside to get a ball, and looks once more at Big Buddy} Play? I want to play. What is “play defense”? I know how to play catch, and play “3-43 hut hut hike”, and play “Joe Namath wins the Super Bowl”. I don’t remember play “defense”. I’ll bring him my Mr. Hiney. Maybe he will show me how to play. I’m in enough trouble as it is for not getting the ball. {Brings Big Buddy his Mr. Hiney. Big Buddy tosses it}

Big Buddy: {At the TV once more} WHAT KIND OF SHOT IS THAT?!?

Couper: {Catches the Mr. Hiney. Turns again to Big Buddy} Huh? I think Big Buddy is now insane. What is he asking me? Shots? I hate shots. I’m not even at the vet. I’m going to jump up on the couch and give Big Buddy a hug. He looks like he needs one and I do NOT want a shot. {Jumps up on couch and sits on Big Buddy’s lap, giving him the wide eyed puppy look}.

Big Buddy: {At Couper this time} Sorry, Little Bud. I’m not yelling at you, it’s this game…{Back at the TV} WOULD YOU GET A REBOUND!?!?!

Couper: Rebound again? That’s it. I’m outta here. I’m going under the bed where it’s safe.

So, at least once a game, I have to fetch Couper out from under the bed and apologize to him for about five minutes. I try to work this in at halftime, so I don’t miss any of the game I’m enjoying. If his mommy is home, (“There’s a game today? Uh, I need to get some things at Kohl’s. I think they’re having a sale.”) I will send him over to her and they can watch Tivoed soap operas together (Rarely during those does she scream, “Don’t do that! She’s only after your money!!!” When she does, I wonder if Couper runs under the bed?). If she is gone, we repeat the process in the second half.

No matter how much I tell him, Couper still does not understand that I am not mad at him, I am mad at the game on TV. Luckily this behavior is usually confined to college basketball and a little bit to college football (until about halftime of the first game when I realize they are hopeless again). My pro teams stink too much to care. I think Couper’s favorite televised sport is baseball. We take a nap together on the couch during the middle innings. No running under the bed for that.

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