Long weekend. I won't lie to you. We are both exhausted. The nice weather around New York forced us to go outside and do exercise type things. In other words, we had to leave the FTTW headquarters and partake in the checking out of the beach and hanging out in the park and, ug, socializing with people.

So we are a little bit frazzled.

So for today, we thought we would talk about disappointments.

Kinda goes with the whole football thing. I mean hell, we had a great weekend, but Michele's team lost, so it got us thinking. What were the biggest sports disappointments we had ever seen.

I know we usually go "Best Of" moments, but today, we are doing shittiest moments.

Those ones that you still remember and seethe at when you hear someone talk about them.

They are that bad.

So let's do this.

turtle hates San Francisco 49er's.

"The Catch"

After being called a 49er fan today by someone on this site who obviously does not know how much I hate this team, I thought I would give a little background as to why I hate this damn team so much I wish they would be rubbed away like so much dog shit on a runner's shoe. Oh yeah. I don't like them. I don't care where I was from and how I should like them or whatever. I just don't like them.

Take a little kid with all his birthday money. Take an evil relative who has a gambling problem. The evil relative forces the young kid to take the Cowboys in a bet. Let the date be January 10, 1982.

Let the young child's birthday money be taken away because of "The Catch" and spent by the evil relative in Reno on craps.

That little boy will hate the 49ers and his Uncle for the rest of his life. And Joe Montana. Grrrrrrrr. I hate him too. All I got was a Micronaut that year for a gift. Not even one of the good ones. One of the cheap ones.

Fuck Joe Montana.

My worst moment is really Chris Webber getting injured in the 2003 NBA playoffs against the Mavericks knocking the Kings out of the Western Conference Semifinals, but since we are in football mode today, I thought I'd stick to NFL.

And no. I am not bitter about the injury. Or the way the team split up the next year. How a rag tag shit hole team that was mocked by the entire NBA for years for gathering players who were old and untested slowly worked their way up to the loudest fuck you in the face NBA team in the league who had their fingers on the greatest "FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKERS! LOOK AT US NOW!" moment in the entire history of the NBA (for me that is) lost it all cause of a injury that sucked out the wind in their sails.

But you know what? I am still there for them. You can't keep them down. They have been fucked over before and they will be fucked over again. But they will still be there. Just waiting to pick up who you threw away and put them together in the right place on our team. Then we will be back.

But I'm not bitter about the injury.

I'm not bitter about that.

At.

Fucking.

All.

- T

Michele swings next.

The 2004 American League baseball playoffs.

No contest on this one.

The Yankees held a three games to none lead over the hated Red Sox. Three games to none. They had to win ONE game out of the next four. Just. One. Game.

"Red Sox are three outs away from being swept out of the American League Championship Series for the first time since 1988"- That was Joe Buck at the start of the bottom of the ninth of game 4.

We were psyched. This was awesome. We were running the fucking Sox into the ground. Humiliating them. Punishing them. Who's your fucking daddy now? This was GAME ON and we were loving it.

And then the pact Big Papi made with the devil (or with Ted Williams's head) kicked in and all hell broke loose.

The games came and went and suddenly we found ourselves in front of the tv watching a game seven that should never have been.

"The 1-0 pitch, swing and a groundball to second base, Pokey Reese has it, he throws to first and the Red Sox have won the American League Pennant."

I'm telling you. I was stunned.

I remember back in whatever year that was that I saw Apocalypse Now in the movie theater. At the end of the movie, as the credits rolled, the theater was completely silence. Shock and awe. Everybody just sat there like, what the fuck did we just see?

It was like that in my sister's apartment. We all just stood there with our mouths hanging open. Nobody said anything for a long while. I think we were post traumatic.

Well, maybe not all those things. Maybe I was more angry than anything else. Maybe I threw a couple of things. Maybe I broke a few Yankee bobbleheads in the middle of the street by running them over with my car. Maybe I looked up Curt Schilling's phone number and told him I would take that damn bloody sock and shove it so far down his throat he'd be shitting cotton and blood for two weeks. Maybe I went home and stared at my photo of Bucky Dent hitting that homer over the Green Monster and cried into my pillow.

Let it be know, I wasn't really crying because the Yankees lost. I mean, it's sports. It isn't my life.

I was crying because they lost to the Red Sox.

And now I'd have to face every Red Sox fan I brazenly taunted after game three, when I thought there was no way in hell the Yanks would lose this series.

Chickens coming home to roost and all.

I'd like to say I learned a valuable lesson in sports humility that day.

But...eh. I just learned how to be really bitter. -M

So those are our moments. Things that will stick with us forever. From the look on their eyes to the feelings in our hearts. The moment that we knew this was the end of the season. It hurts. But, we will always be fans. We will always want more.

What are your biggest disappointments? The ones that really made your earn your fan status for sticking around?

/Go Kings!

Michele and Turtle were both very upset about the whole National Lawn Bowling League scandal.

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