Quixotic Angst...

High School Basketball. 

Oh, how I love it.

One of my dreams is to one day be a coach. Or maybe just the person that sweeps the floors after the games - less pressure.

I've blogged about it before.

My love for it probably stems from positive memories of it from childhood. 

My older brothers played and I was always at the games. 

My Mom was the cheerleading sponsor so there was always a reason for me to be on the bus, beneath the bleachers or roving the hallways. 

I remember my tenth birthday very clearly. I was on the bus with the basketball team driving back from an away game. The bus broke down and they ended up singing to me when the clock rolled over to 12:01.

Even now all these years later the smell of Frito pie or the sight of blow pops and fountain cokes sends me into a reverie of happy memories.

Don't even get me started on the fact that the school no longer sells fountain cokes. 

Bottled Cokes only...It's a travesty is what it is! It's wrong I tell you, wrong! Who wants to drink a stupid bottled coke?!

Last week we went to a game. 

We left the toddler at home and tried to take a family picture when we got to the game. 

We ended up getting my husband and me, half of one kid, and one kids eye. 

Close enough. 

The boys' friend Lync was there.

Happy Lync.

The game was very close.

This created quite a bit of angst for the boys. 

Angst! Wait! Rabbit Trail!!

The other day while I was listening to NPR one of the commentators pronounced angst like 'ongst' as opposed to angst with a hard a.

Have I been saying it wrong all these years? I mean, angst is a word I actually use.

 If I need to be embarrassed I need to know about it. 

Ooh! And ya know what else I heard the other day on NPR? 

The word Quixotic pronounced like 'Quickotic'

Huh? I've always thought it was pronounced 'Keyhotic' - Not that I've ever actually used that word but I don't want to be saying it wrong in my head either. 

I actually don't even know what it means. Something about windmills and Spain and impossible things. 

Where were we?

Oh, yeah! Basketball.

So, the game was close and it made this guy happy for it to be exciting:

It made this guy crazy:

In fact by the end of the game the third grader was doing this on my lap:

He just couldn't take the pressure.

I'm not sure a big athletic career is in the future for him.

But:

In the end there was elation and glee when we won.

Elation, glee, and hopefully no quixotic angst.

Your assignment:

Go to a High School basketball game. 

And complain if they don't sell fountain cokes. Oooh! And call and complain to my school too so they'll start selling them again!