This week, we got off the couch and ran the two blocks to the Trax station. There we pretended to be humans and snuck on board. Humans are so self-centered they often don't see what's right in front of them! Either that or the humans that take Trax are routinely brown and grey colored, quite hairy, and with floppy ears. We arrived 45 minutes later at the Energy Solutions Arena where we watched the Utah Jazz destroy the Washington Wizards.
We watch many sports during the days, but they are usually lower key sports like golf or bowling or tv court; so it was nice to see some basketball, and in person. Or rather, in dog. We loved the game and enjoyed barking at the ridiculous Wizard players, but of course we found a few flaws in the system.
Most notably, why is the mascot of the Utah Jazz a bear? We think that a dog would make a highly superior mascot. Here are a few facts to back up our claim.
Fact: Humans hate bears. They are disturbing and routinely raid picnic baskets. Humans love dogs.
Fact: Bears are less intimidating that dogs.
Fact: Sammi looks much better in clothes than the Jazz Bear.
Fact: Dogs are much better basketball players than bears.
A Jazz dog would be much more awe-inspiring than a Jazz bear.
This is a picture we took of the game from our seats to prove how excellent our seats were. Seriously though, there were only ten rows behind us! If you are up on your dog psychology, you will remember that the most alpha dog sits with his head the highest. There were only a few drunk fatties and a group of teeny-boppers that were more dominant than us. Excellent!
1 comment:
Bitches,
Once again you blaze the trail. I am in the process of using this story to convince The Handler to let me out for some fun canine activities--I have a right to control my own dog days.
In fact, to him I turn one-year-old in a week and even though he snickers, "Look, I am smart enough to know that seven human years is still too young to be catching the light rail to go to a premier sporting event," what he doesn't realize is that while my body is seven in handler years, a dog's maturity grows at a rate of dog years * 7 squared. So I'm 49 in wisdom and with a youthful and active body.
But that is not why I'm writing. I'm bored most of the day, doing my duty making sure the house is secure, and like a fat guard keeping watch over some lifeless office building in downtown SLC, I have lots of free time. Lately, I've been reading about the history of the Utah Jazz. Timely, given your post.
The Jazz have come a long way. For example, did you know that twenty-five years ago had you been in the Salt Palace with ten rows behind you, you would have actually been sitting on row 16 from the floor? Outstanding seats!
Did you know the Jazz were so bad, that once a fan was screaming at the referee, calling him terrible names like "stupid, dummy," (yes, I know, a veritable fountain of verbal creativity). Frank Layden, aka "Fat Frank," turned around and quipped, "Who are you calling stupid? You paid to watch this." In essence, with a bad Jazz team and Frank Layden you got game and a show.
How far the team has come, and how far away must the fans now sit, especially if they have ten rows behind them. Progress? Think about it.
Your favorite bitch and Jazz spectator hopeful,
Sugar the Maltese
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