Sports

My dad has officially poisoned me. Not that it's a recent thing, or anything —it's just been a little bit more obvious to me this past week, that's all.

On Thursday, BYU played Florida in the first round of the NCAA Tournament. And they won. It was the first time in 17 years that BYU had made it past the first round of the tournament, which was awesome. I went home on my lunch break so I could watch at least part of the game. It was a good game. Unfortunately, I had to drive back to work right when the first overtime ended, so I didn't get to see the awesome second overtime. Oh well.

Anyway . . . the point I'm trying to make is that I love sports. When I go to the gym and use a machine with a TV on it, I usually try to find a basketball game to keep me entertained while I run. If there isn't a Jazz game on, I'll find a different game. I often wonder how many people look at me funny because I'm a girl who's choosing to watch sports rather than American Idol or TLC or something.

I know there a lot of girls out there who like sports. I'm not incredibly unique in that. But I'm still kind of weird. My dad keeps warning me not to let my sports knowledge spill out too quickly around guys—apparently they don't like it much when girls know more about sports than they do. And I know a lot about sports. You don't grow up with a sports fanatic and basketball ref of a father (and two sports fanatic brothers) without learning about the rules and getting into the games. I've been watching sports my whole life, and I enjoy it. Live, on TV—I enjoy it either way. And that's not going to change any time soon.

All I can say now is, "Go Cougs!" I'm looking forward to (hopefully) watching a win tonight against Kansas State. All BYU's got to do is play their game, and they'll have a decent chance to win this thing. Let's go BYU! Sweet Sixteen here we come!