MyThreeDaughters

Having a favorite color seems important, if you’re a kid. So I always feel badly when I’m watching sports with the girls. Fontaine will say, “I’m for the red team,” and usually there is one, and Elizabeth will say, “What about the purple team?” And there isn’t one. Think about red and you got about a fifty-fifty chance one of the teams playing is in that color.
Purple? As they say, not so much. When I was a kid there was one purple dynasty, the Minnesota Vikings defense was called the <a href=”http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Purple_People_Eaters”&gt; purple people eaters</a>.
Yet right now, as we speak, rather as I type this note to myself, the <a href=”http://www.nba.com/lakers/index_main.html”>purple team</a> is getting stomped in game six of the NBA finals, and I’m unable to root for them to turn things around.
<a href=”http://www.insidehoops.com/hate-the-lakers-120405.shtml”>Just don’t dig the Lakers</a>, and luckily, Elizabeth’s already in bed and didn’t even know the purple team played tonight.
Anyway, if the purple team wins tonight, I’ll mention that to Elizabeth at breakfast. If they lose, I’ll keep quiet and smile.