Funny Guy Friday... The Winner and Still Champ (sort of)...

     Over the course of our eighteen-year marriage, Cheryl and I have had our share of arguments. I would guess that we argue less than most, but we have our moments. This past weekend, we had a doozy that will go down as one of the worst arguments we have ever had. It is with great caution that I share the details with you in this week's FGF.
     First, a little history. When we do argue, I will either say something very sarcastic that hurts her feelings, or I will just walk away without any resolution. Neither method helps resolve the issue and both tend to prolong the argument. In addition, I feel horrible and have to apologize for the sarcastic comment and/or the walking away in the middle of the bout. This past weekend was different. This past weekend, we were trapped in a car, so I had no walk-away-option and I don't think my minimal comments were even in the same ballpark as sarcasm.
     At this point, you may be wondering, What was so important that would cause an argument between these two lovely people... and then why would he share it with the world (or at least the eight people that read this blog)?
     Was it about politics? No. Was it about religion? No. Was it about Cheryl's desire to homeschool the kids? No. We have agreement on all of those silly little issues. No... this argument was over a topic that dwarfs those issues.
     This argument was over the sport of basketball.
     More specifically... whether or not our son's six-year-old basketball team should switch baskets at halftime or not! That's right boys and girls... an argument that was right in my wheel house, and one that I could not possibly lose!


Ding Ding Ding..........
     In this corner, we have the reigning undefeated Champion---standing 5 ft. 4 in. and weighing real close to what she weighed when she got married (see, I really do love my wife). She can be deceptively cool and calculating for one that appears to be soooo nice. For the most part she wins her arguments because she has the facts to support her position. But when the facts don't support her, she effectively wears her opponent down with verbal barrages that can go on for several minutes without her ever taking a breath. Incredible stamina. She lives by the credo that the best defense is a good offense, as she gobbles up great lengths of time explaining even the simplest theory---all the while preventing her opponent from getting a punch, er uh, a word in edgewise. Oftentimes, when it comes time for opponents to muster up a response, they have forgotten what the argument was about in the first place.
     And in this corner we have the Challenger, standing just a smidge under 5 ft. 9 in. and weighing exactly what he weighed when he got married. Years of legal training have prepared him for courtroom battles, but nothing in his lifetime has prepared him for the Champ. Easily frustrated, he often resorts to ineffective shakes of the head and eye rolls. Although funny, his sarcasm only results in short term success, and ultimately contributes to his inevitible doom.

     On Saturday, six-year-old Noah had a basketball game. I kept score on one side of the gym while Cheryl and the other parents watched from the other side. After the game, we got into the car and she mentioned that the parents were discussing that kids at this age should not have to change baskets after halftime because it is too confusing. I drew upon my years of experience in both playing and coaching sports and made the simple comment that they have to learn sometime.  Unbeknownst to me, these five simple words amounted to the first punch!
     The Champ countered with a verbal barrage citing several reasons why the switch should not occur at the half. Actually, she only gave one reason, confusion, but she gave it several times with several examples and explanations. Believe me, she did not tell me anything that I did not already understand as soon as she had said that it was too confusing for the youngsters.
     As hard as it is to believe, I understood her argument, I just disagreed with it! This was not one of our more complicated topics. All of my attempts to counter punch and explain my position were deftly deflected by the Champ's onslaught.
     When she was finished, I was exhausted, so I thought that I would concede. Lovingly, I said, Okay, you win, they should not have to switch baskets after the half. Okay, perhaps I was a bit condenscending, and not as loving as I should have been but either way, I was raising the white flag.
     I would love to hear someone say, Okay, you win, after I make a passionate, if not, long-winded argument. I don't care if my opponent is being condenscending or not, a win is a win.
     Not so much with the Champ.
     Apparently, after eighteen years of marriage, I still don't understand that it is not about winning or losing. If you thought that the first five words got her going, the thirteen words that began with, Okay you win... set her off like a windmill in a tornado. Now she was on a roll---a roll that lasted for several minutes. Followed by the worst of all---silence!
     Typically, I would feel bad at this point, but this time, I didn't think that I had done anything wrong. I had lost, I had conceded, and I lived to fight another day. Believe me, if there were punch counters counting words at this argument, the score would have been Champ, several thousand... the Challenger, seventeen. TKO Baby! The Champ keeps her crown!
     We continued on to Matthew's game and things seemed to get back to normal after a few minutes. Okay, maybe more than a few, but things eventually got better. When we got back into the car after Matthew's game, we were alone because Matthew had gone home with a teammate. Cheryl then explained that it is not about winning or losing or keeping score, and that she did not want to hear that They have to learn sometime. I asked if she was upset that I said that they have to learn or that I said that she won. The answer was, of course, both.  
     Then the darndest thing happened---the Champ started having a conversation with herself about the whole thing and then she began to get a bit irritated and then she continued to argue, not with me but with herself.
     I never thought that someone could interrupt herself, or stop herself from making a point with a quick counter point, but there she was punching and counterpunching with herself. It was as if she got bored with winning arguments with me, and had decided to move on to a new challenge.  
     At this point, I was just a bystander looking on with amusement as the Champ waged a civil war. In the midst of this, Grace called and asked what we were doing. I told her that I was driving home, but Mom was having an argument with herself.
     Cheryl kept the pressure on herself as she continued the argument throughout the telephone call. She was spectacular. It was like a computer game where you can pick a boxer and then have that boxer fight himself. It was a tough argument to judge, as both Cheryls made some good points.
     I often say that I married the nicest person that God has ever put on this earth, and I say that because I mean it. Cheryl is that nice. As I listend to Cheryl v. Cheryl, I realized that it is silly to argue with her because I cannot win no matter what the topic. It has taken eighteen years of marriage, but I have finally reached this conclusion. From this day forward, I will no longer argue with my wife.
     Funny, if you think about it, I was right all along, you do have to learn sometime! Score one for the challenger! That brings the score to Champ-857... Challenger-1. Of course, I realize that it isn't about winning and losing and keeping score but for the record, I was right!