Nobody's Perfect

Nagging is really quite easy when you live with teenagers. Effortless, in fact. Whether it's asking them to turn off screens after 6 or 7 hours, stop throwing the basketball against the white painted living room walls, or simply pointing out that the pile of Stridex Acne pads on the bathroom floor is pretty good evidence they missed the trash can, the response is the same. Stop nagging me.

Excellence at nagging apparently causes utter and complete ignorance of professional sports. You are not capable of filling out a bracket for March Madness, and clearly not a suitable candidate for a birthday Celtics game. Nagging and sports illiteracy pretty much sum things up for you these days, except for the little bit of weirdness that has also set in. Demanding hugs in exchange for meals is weird. Getting misty when they dress up for a dance or are found snuggling with the dog is weird. Sending them text messages just to say you miss them is really weird. 

It's been described as the worst call in baseball in the last 25 years when with two outs in the ninth inning Detroit, Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga almost threw a perfect game but the first-base umpire, Jim Joyce, called the runner safe at first base. But he wasn't really safe. It was a mistake and Joyce apologized. Galarraga accepted the apology.

You think this is nice. You point out (or nag, rather) that sportsmanship is about more than winning. You predict good things will come to both pitcher and umpire because of their actions. You appreciate at last athletic role models worthy of the money and status they garner. You are so weird.