This should come as a surprise to no one but I am a huge sports fan. Outside of Nascar and professional basketball, I will watch pretty much anything. MrBunny has often stated that I would watch midget log rolling but I think that is a slight exaggeration.
One of my favorite sports, however, is golf. And while I do enjoy the PGA, I love the LPGA. Why? First off- it’s chicks and being a woman I like to see chicks excel in sport. Who watches women’s college basketball on ESPN2 in the middle of the night? Me. Who was heartbroken when softball was cut from the Olympics? Me again.
The LPGA has been in my lifetime pretty much the only sport in which you could see women competing with any regularity- the Olympics are awesome and all (Bob Costas I love you) but waiting every four years sucks.
That and my dad is a huge golf fan so growing up we watched a lot of golf, men or women- it didn’t matter. Lee Trevino, Julie Inkster, Fred Couples, Meg Mallon, Chi-Chi Rodriguez, Hollis Stacy- these were the people I watched each weekend.
All that leads up to this. I love Nancy Lopez. Love her. While most teenage girls had posters of teen heart throbs (which I did as well but I can’t think of who), there on my wall, right next to my Kermit Calvin Klein poster was a picture of Nancy Lopez.
When she came in second (again) in the Women’s US Open in ’97, I was geniunely broken hearted for her. To have such a celebrated career and come so close to winning the Open that many times… ugh. I can’t imagine.
She lives here in southwest Georgia and a friend of ours knows her. Somehow she came up in conversation one night and friends says, hey I can tell you where she lives. I quickly said “please don’t” because the temptation to become a stalker would be very strong and I’m not sure I’d be able to resist. It’s the same reason why I have yet to visit Gladys Knight’s restaurant in Atlanta. Well that and I don’t want Gladys to take out a restraining order against me when I refuse to leave.
That night I went home and went to bed, still thinking of Nancy Lopez.
It was then I had one of the strangest dreams ever.
Somehow Nancy Lopez found out of my love for her (much like when my old boss got a little tipsy at a party and told Bob Costas’ then wife that I had a crush on her husband) and invited me over. Giddy as a school girl I went over to Nancy Lopez’s house and had what I thought was a lovely visit.
I’d been at her house awhile when she started to make dinner. I didn’t think anything of it until one of assistants (for some reason she had like twelve assistants) pulled me aside and told me not to eat the food. I laughed thinking she was yanking my chain but she got all serious and was like, “no really. Do not eat the food. Nancy Lopez is trying to poison you.”
I was crushed. I couldn’t figure out where I had gone wrong. Perhaps I had told her I loved her too many times. Or maybe she didn’t like the cross stitch I did of her face. Or perhaps I shouldn’t have offered to wash her car- I mean who offers to wash someone’s car they just met?
With a heavy heart I left Nancy Lopez’s house only to sit in my car and cry. Why Nancy Lopez? Why?!?!?!
It was then I woke up and realized that perhaps it was time to up the meds.