Seminoles Black UniformsWith just a few minutes before heading into the fourth quarter and the Seminoles up by 10 I knew that we were going to lose this one. A freshman QB was leading a scoring drive you could see coming from a mile away. Our defense, riddled with injuries, couldn’t tackle anything headed right for them. And with 16 seconds left in the 3rd the Pack pulled within 3.

I became a nasty, cursing sunuva bitch. Somehow the FSU allure bit me again and I was caring too much about this team that hardly deserves attention. The Pack took the lead and I was seething. Why? Why did I stay up to watch this train wreck knowing full well we weren’t going to score a game winning touchdown?

Because I care too much. Just like watching my mother waste away the golden years of her life and destroying any dignity she might have left, I watch Bowden doing the exact same thing. On a daily basis I get through it by being numb most of the time. Years and years of bartering with an unseen deity, of fighting for and against patience, of rationalizing wistfully eventually erode any strength I had when I was an optimistic, younger self.

Next week, FSU will retaliate against Duke and that will be as filling as a diet cherry snowcone. A brief moment of sobriety that brings unresolved reflection. After that it’s Boston College…played in alternate uniforms to honor the unconquered Seminole tribe. My brother has surprised me with an upcoming visit and tickets to the game. Now we can both watch this team, dressed appropriately in black, fade into the shadows of our eternity.

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