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Pair of Bulls

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Ah, your ex. You were a pretty good team when you were together, and had some outstanding times you'll never forget. The split came when a family tragedy made it too painful to be around each other. After the break-up, the ex made a pretty good go of things. It seemed like the best thing for everyone at the time. A couple of years ago, though, the ex fell on some real hard times -- drinking in the morning, tax fraud, mopery -- and it looked as if she wasn't going to recover. Just one year ago, she was arrested for running through the streets naked, trying to catch enough pigeons to pull the chariot she had built out of graham crackers and chewing gum.

That's how you thought that it would end, and that's why you were as surprised as anyone when she showed back up in your life. She looked better than she had since you were in your early 20s. She wasn't just coherent, she was engaging and funny. You were single, and while no one could really explain the two years of mental breakdowns, no one would really fault you for trying to see is there was still some magic there. After a couple of fine weeks, it seemed like a brilliant decision.

Then things changed; rather, they went back to how you remembered them. It wasn't that things were hideously awful, it's that you kind of remembered what drove you nuts about her in the first place. Not only that, but now there was the idea in your head that she could totally lose it again at any time. You could go on a business trip and come back in a week to find a human head in the refrigerator. It might not be totally fair to think that, but it would be foolish not to have it in the back of your mind. But things are okay overall, you guess.

You get tickets to Game Four of the Warriors/Mavs game. Not just seats, but front row seats. Courtside, baby.When you get there, you're sitting next to Jessica Alba. That was unexpected. She asks if she can have some of your nachos. You tell her that you hope the Warriors don't forget to pass the ball to her, 'cuz that body is SLAMMIN. Or maybe not. Maybe you tell a whimsical Winston Churchill anecdote. Dealer's choice. She laughs at everything you say and asks no one in particular why she can't meet a down-to-earth guy like you. She makes a William Van Landingham reference and talks about your favorite bands. Then her boyfriend shows up. He introduces himself. His name is "Cash". When he says this, she rolls her eyes. After Matt Barnes hits the dagger three from the corner, she slips you her number.

For months, you've talked to Ms. Alba on the phone, and she'll wait for you to figure out what to do with your former ex. She'll actually wait for you. Wow. But every second you spend with your possibly crazy/not-that-special-in-the-first-place ex is a second that you're not spending with Jessica Freaking Alba.

So what do you do? Stick with the ex, who you absolutely know isn't going to give you much more than you've seen and has the potential to give you a lot less? Or do you go with the archetype of potential happiness?

Also, this is a metaphor for Russ Ortiz and Tim Lincecum. I know you know, but I have family who reads this who will have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about. If I didn't toss the blatant explanation in there, I probably would have received a whole bunch of so-like-are-you-okay calls.

Comment starter: Really, though. How long of a chance do you give to Ortiz? I was on board after the dominant spring, but he isn't making me brim with confidence. Add in the fact that Lincecum is absolutely destroying AAA hitters, and that he'd be one of the most exciting things to happen to the franchise in recent history, and....