THE GREAT GRETZKY
One day I learned that Wayne Gretzky asked my husband's cousin out for a date. At the last minute something came up and he had to break the date but that didn’t matter to me. Suddenly hockey dripped like blood from my veins. At least, if Wayne Gretzky was playing. After all, there was a once in a ten million chance that he might have been family.
From that point on, I watched every single one of his hockey games. I even cheered. Not only that, I paid big bucks to go and see him. Rick came too so it was double the shell out. My butt was sucked to the chair like a vacuum packed rump roast.
We were living in California at the time and went to the game with friends. They kept nudging me to look at the different movie stars who were there, but I only had eyes for Wayne. I am so shallow. Eventually, the phase passed and I am back to my normal hockey hating self, and wondering—whatever possessed me.
OK, I don't know if this has ever been done when writing, but I have to share my bloopers about this article.
I am SO NOT into sports that it took me several times reading back through my article before I remembered that it was Rose Bowel not Rose Ball. Then I realized that it wasn't Rose Bowel(although that somewhat indicates my feelings about the whole thing), but Rose Bowl. SHEESH!
I am probably unpatriotic in two countries now. :)