THE SPORTING LIFE

To our own surprise, Caryl and I have recently discovered that we enjoy watching the Minnesota Twins on television. I say “surprise” because neither of us has been known as a sports fan. Here’s a case in point:


We were running some errands in the Twin Cities and decided to stop in and see an ailing friend. His wife greeted us with a warm welcome, and we entered to find our friend rallying a bit and sitting in an easy chair, wrapped in a blanket, and surrounded by his brother (also a friend), his two affable sons and one daughter-in-law. Under the coffee table lay a large, friendly-looking dog, stretched out the full length of the table.


Although, as it turned out, we had happened in during the gold medal Winter Olympics hockey final, they all greeted us with smiles, and welcomed us to join them in front of the television. We found places on the couch, the lazy dog at our feet.


Hockey final, indeed! We had come in during the last minutes of the Canada-U.S. game, with Canada leading 2-1. Although our friends’ welcome was genuine (they are good friends), their eyes quickly returned to the action on the screen. Caryl and I started to watch and even I became engrossed in the game’s drama, as we all leaned forward in our seats.  With (as I recall) twenty-four seconds remaining in regulation time, the U.S. scored the tying goal. At that moment a groan of Canadian disappointment filled the arena, but the Canadian team pulled out all the stops as they attempted to regain the lead. Fifteen seconds, ten… five seconds… four…  three…. At which point Caryl said, “So, what kind of dog is it?”