So, the Bucks vs Golden State Warriors game was on. I’d been looking forward to this one, you know? Like, really looking forward to it. Felt like old times, getting hyped for a big game. I figured, I’m gonna do this right. My practice, my little project for the day, was to create the perfect game-watching cave.
I started early. First, had to make sure the big screen was dialed in, picture perfect. No blurry players for me, no sir. Then, the sound. Oh, I messed with the surround sound for a good hour. Wanted to hear every squeak of the sneakers, every swish of the net. It’s gotta be immersive, right? That’s half the fun.
Then, the snacks. This was a crucial part of the plan. I didn’t just grab a bag of chips. No. I went all out:
- Wings, homemade, because the store-bought ones are just never spicy enough.
- Some fancy craft beer I’d been saving.
- Even made a seven-layer dip. Yeah, I was that committed.
Phone on silent. Do not disturb mode activated on everything. I told my wife, unless the house is on fire, I’m in the zone. She just rolled her eyes, but she knows how I get with these things. The stage was set. My masterpiece of a game night. My little sanctuary of sport.
And then? Tip-off time is approaching. I’m settled in my favorite chair, dip in hand. The pre-game show is wrapping up. Here we go. And just as the players are lining up… BAM. Darkness. Complete, utter, soul-crushing darkness.
A power outage. The whole neighborhood. You gotta be kidding me. All that prep. All that effort. My perfect setup, my “practice” for the ultimate fan experience, gone. Poof. Just like that. I sat there in the dark for a good ten minutes, just fuming. It felt so… unfair. Like the universe was playing a practical joke specifically on me.
My first instinct was to rage. To find someone to blame. The power company, the weather, a squirrel chewing on a wire, anything! I even checked my phone – which, by the way, was now my only source of light and connection – for updates. Nothing. Just “crews are aware.” Great. Helpful.
But then, sitting there in the quiet dark, something kinda shifted. All that energy I’d put into controlling this one little experience. Making it perfect. And it all got wiped out by something completely out of my hands. It reminded me of so many other times I’d tried to force things, to plan every little detail, only for life to come along and say, “Nah, got other plans for you, buddy.”
You know, back in the day, I used to get so bent out of shape about stuff like this. Ruined my whole day, sometimes my whole week. This whole elaborate setup for the game, it was like I was trying to recapture something. Some feeling from years ago, maybe. But life isn’t a replay, is it? You can’t just hit pause and rewind, or meticulously set up every scene.
So, what did I do? Well, after my little pity party in the dark, I found some candles. My wife came in, and we ended up just talking. No TV, no phones (well, mostly off to save battery), just… talking. About everything and nothing. It was quiet. Peaceful, even. The game? I completely missed it. Heard the next day who won, but it didn’t even sting that much.
I guess my “practice” for the day wasn’t about setting up the perfect game night after all. It turned into a practice of letting go. Of realizing that sometimes the best things happen when your meticulously crafted plans go right out the window. It’s a lesson I’ve had to learn the hard way, many times. And I suppose I’m still practicing. Maybe that’s what being “mature and seasoned” really means – you just have more practice sessions under your belt dealing with life’s curveballs. Still haven’t perfected it, though. Not by a long shot.
