This past Sunday, I suffered a devastating, penetrating loss. In a game for the ages, Notre Dame came up three points short against the Longhorns of Texas. A double-overtime spectacle, the match was positively electric. But, alas, the Fighting Irish left the field with a big L. Just when one thinks one’s soul cannot get any blacker, the fire of loss chars it even darker. Clear eyes, full hearts, apparently can lose. As I sat on my couch reflecting upon the past four hours, I yearned for comfort. Nothing can truly placate you after a loss of such magnitude, but in times of deep loss, we can turn to three vices for comfort. I urge you to join me.
You’ll need a wide assortment of cuisine from which to choose, as mourning cravings can be arbitrary and vary drastically. One moment, you’re reliving that uncalled targeting hit (in fact, let us take a moment right now to grieve said occurrence), shoveling brownies down your gullet, and the next, you’re recalling the sieve that was your defensive line and it’s the savory goodness that only a large pizza can provide. Let yourself indulge. Eat everything. Eat all of the things. It’s for the best.
While this may be considered insider trading, I’ll let you in on a little secret regardless. I go through about a box a day, on average. During football season, this number increases exponentially. Might I suggest an investment in Kimberly Clark Corporation (KMB), the owner of the Kleenex brand? You’re sure to receive a sizeable ROI come playoff selection.
People, this is why god made alcohol. This is it, right here. Let yourself drown in the agony that is Notre Dame football. Erase the memory. Erase the pain. Cowboy, take me away. Closer to the tequila.
And in what I believe to be the words Kurt Vonnegut really meant: “Nothing was beautiful, and everything hurt.”