As I thought about what I was going to write about today, my mom very unnecessarily shrieked from across the house “The Cowboys are winning! Oh, but the other team’s coming.” Not exactly an ESPN analysis, but, at least I found my topic.
My mom, who knows a Dallas Cowboys loss means a pop quiz in religion class tomorrow, tries her hardest to adapt to a family of three men who religiously follow sports. Silly Rosemary doesn’t get that a Cowboys loss could jump the Eagles (Piscitelli family’s NFL team) into a tie for first place in the NFC East. But for the most part, neither would most moms.
I’ve been pretty lucky. My mom was athletic. She played varsity tennis at St. Brendan High School (Go Sabres), and has sat through hundreds of little league, middle school, high school, college, and professional games. Plus, she’s hooked us up with tickets to World Series games, Super Bowls, NBA Finals, and even Stanley Cup Finals. Atta girl!
But, despite my luck, I can honestly say sports and mothers mix just as well as fire and gasoline.
For one thing, the bigger the stage– the more she tries. If my mom knows a big game is coming up, she’ll read up on it. I’m pretty sure she plans out the order and time when she will deliver the information she just learned. 80% of it is unnecessary and a bother, but 20% is surprisingly helpful. What gets most men riled up is when women who are athletically inept try to be a coach, referee, or analyst. I mean, these guys are paid millions of dollars for a reason–they know what they’re doing.
Another beautiful side effect of watching sports with your mom is getting to hear the well thought out, reasonable opinions on players. If a player has long hair, according to my mother, he is slow because of it, can’t tackle because of it, can’t make a shot because of it, and is basically the worst athlete who has ever lived because of it. I am sure Mama Piscitelli is not the only one who hates on athletes with troubles off the fields such as Michael Vick and Tiger Woods. You gotta love it. No matter what they do, they will forever be in the wrong. Understandable…right?
Hating on our moms for their lack of sports knowledge is easier than shopping at Staples (get it?). But sometimes, we can be too hard on our moms. For example: during the Heat playoffs my mother decided she would give play-by-play of the games– typical mom move. No big deal. However, I went to Twitter to vent my frustration.
June 1, 2013: “my mom knows more rules than these refs #thatwouldbenothing”
May 8, 2013: “dear mom, if you don’t know basketball, please don’t talk during the heat game. Love, Joseph”
A little harsh, but every guy can relate. In the end, Rosemary tries her hardest and a lot of respect goes out to her and all the other moms who attempt to follow a sporting event with their family. Just a word of advice: easy on the sports and please don’t get a twitter.
Editor’s note: Joseph Piscitelli is the chief executive producer for CCNN Live. He is also an opinion writer for Adolecent Press where this was originally published. The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the official opinion of CCNN Live, or of Christopher Columbus High School.