Win One for the Stripper
by Karen Williams | November 25, 2005
Seminole Chronicle
Why is it that an idea can seem brilliant by night, as a person relaxes at home, knocking back Diet Cokes and watching "The Simpsons" on television, but that same idea can seem, well, idiotic the next day, eliciting a "What was I thinking?" response and a self-slap on the noggin.
I rarely experience this phenomenon, as I usually reject my ideas as duds from the start. But recently, one snuck by me.
My feller, Mark, and I were planning to attend a tip-off luncheon at the Convention Center for the Orlando Magic's new season. It so happens I love basketball, having been born and bred in Indiana (birthplace of "Hoosier Hysteria") - where it's common to fill your home with life-size replicas of basketball legend Larry Bird, and it's normal to scream for your team till you develop nodules on your voice box.
It further so happens that I had in my possession an Indiana Pacers T-shirt - bright golden orange in color and big enough to fit (but probably never worn by) Shaquille O'Neal.
Since the Magic were scheduled to play the formidable Pacers for their opening game of the season, I decided to wear the Pacers shirt to the Magic luncheon. But first I would write, in felt-tip pen, various remarks on the shirt to clarify I am not really a Pacers fan (anymore).
With one eye on Homer and Marge and one eye on my project, I wrote "STINKS" under the Pacers logo on the front of the shirt. Then I decorated the back with such apt phrases as "Conseco Stadium...what a shack" and mildly disparaging remarks about Pacer players and even (this was painful) Pacers president Larry Bird himself.
The next day, as Mark and I headed to the pre-lunch gathering, I began to wish the bright orange of my shirt wasn't quite, well, so bright. But at least I was assured that no other woman would be wearing my outfit.
Mingling with the large crowd, I was greeted not by chuckles and high-fives but by ... dirty looks! Obviously people were seeing the Pacers logo and failing to read the fine print. I've not encountered so much disapproval since I was 3 years old and removed my wet underpants on the platform during a church children's program.
"I guess I should have written "STINKS" in larger letters," I said, turning to Mark, who was suddenly concealed behind a potted plant.
Once inside the banquet area, I stripped the shirt off. There was no sense in giving fellow Magic fans indigestion or getting a plate of broccoli in my face. Thankfully I'd worn half-a-closet of other garments underneath in an effort to take up the Shaq-size slack.
When everyone had a chance, during dessert, to meet the players and get autographs, I decided to carry my very-bright shirt with me and come clean, explaining to the team that I'm a recovering Pacers fan.
"Recovering?" one very tall player responded. "I'd hope you'd be cured!"
"I just brought this old rag along in case someone spills something, and we need to mop up the floor," I clarified. "And that's what you guys will do with the Pacers during your season-opener game!"
And that's exactly what happened. Someone spilled a beverage, and I stooped to mop it up before we headed home.
But as for the game, well, the Magic lost by 12 points to the Pacers before a sold-out crowd at T.D. Waterhouse. But things will get better. I'd bet the shirt off my back.
~~~
Photo: Karen at an Orlando Magic basketball game. That's billionaire Magics owner, Rich DeVos, in the gray suit right above Karen's noggin.
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Copyright 2005, Karen Williams
