Thanksgiving is the ultimate ironic holiday. You bitch and moan for three weeks prior about traveling to the homes of relatives, about seeing relatives and about maintaining effective conversation with relatives, but in the end you do it and you enjoy it, and your life feels somewhat more complete for having done it.
This is the American way: whine about a future action to the extent that you remove all joy from it, then experience it and realize how meaningful it was. That premise has saved every NBA season since 1990.
Thanksgiving dinners are not even imagined in the dreams of sociology majors. There’s the inevitable mindless chatter about the relative height of long-unseen relatives since the same time last year (“My gawd! Johnny musta put on six inches! The NBA’s a-come callin!”) and various new pieces of furniture. My dad, at this year’s Thanksgiving, had a five-minute-long conversation about my aunt’s new “chair and a half.” I don’t think my dad has discussed anything longer than five minutes except for the 1986 Mets and 1994 Knicks since roughly the Nixon administration, but Thanksgiving dinners do weird things to people.
Then, yes, then there is sports. Masculinity is at a high premium during family gatherings; it’s a kind of a caveman-like dance around each other, trying to prove to the females in the room that they should be cooking the dinner, slaving away over the stove, because lo and behold, some guy in the room knows who Shaun Alexander is. Now, let’s get one thing straight. There are very few people in this world who truly do know who Shaun Alexander is, and even fewer who appreciate his God-given gifts as a tailback. But names and stories such as his constantly emerge at Thanksgiving dinners and “waiting periods.” As families wait for the bird to emerge, glorious, at the center of the table, they discuss anything and everything. Guys have been searching ESPN.com for weeks, just for topics on the day of turkey.
Here are some samples of the finer things said at Thanksgiving dinners around the good ole U.S. of A, and your favorite columnist’s (no, not Mark Kriegel) reactions to them:
“So, Ball State, wow!”
Check it, Uncle Bill. The last time you watched an entire Ball State game was about a quarter to never, so don’t even try to take this route with me.
“What’s wrong with the Redskins, eh Ted?”
Well first of all, dear cousin, just because I attend college in the District doesn’t mean I like the Redskins, or shows starring Craig T. Nelson. Those last four seasons of Coach were a disaster. The thing is, if you knew anything about sports at all, you’d know that the 2001 Washington Redskins, who are “on a f’n roll” in the words of their coach, are the first team in NFL history to begin 0-5 and eventually rebound to 5-5.
“The Clippers, man, what a joke.”
WRONG. The Clips are the team of the future. The only horrific thing about them is Corey Maggette’s weave. Did one of those racoons from Super Mario Brothers 3 die on his head?
“I just don’t get what’s wrong with the Nets.”
Umm, nothing. They’re the second best team in the East.
“Gawd, I hate the Cowboys.”
OK. Good one.
“Whatever happened to Ryan Leaf?”
He discovered that five wideout sets don’t really work in the pros and that Mike Price, however praised and revered he may be in the upper northwest corners of our fine land, is really not that intelligent. This doesn’t change the fact that his Chargers jersey is available for 16 bucks on eBay.
“The turkey’s ready!”
Radoslav Nesterovic is at dinner? Cool!
