First, the Spurs. Let me give you a quick run-down of my night last night, which started with an afternoon conversation.
Carly: What do you want for dinner tonight, Seth? I think I'll cook something so we don't have to go out to eat again.
Seth: Well, the Spurs are playing tonight.
Seth: Last game we won, we ordered pizza from Louie's, so that's probably good mojo. We should order it again.
Carly: We're going to get fat.
Seth: It's for the Spurs, Carly. Anything for the Spurs.
Carly: Nope. So, how about if I cook something Italian, because that's at least in the same family. And it's likely that if pizza from Louie's brought us good luck, then if I cook Italian food, it'll also be good luck. So I'm going to send you a list of ingredients, you just go ahead and buy what's on the list, and I'll cook us a good-luck Italian meal.
Seth: Ok, if you're sure.
Carly: I'm very sure.
End of phone call. I write all this to say that I like the Spurs a lot. After 2 years of dating a maniacal fan, I've definitely come around. However, I'm a fan in the sense that I watch the games (playoffs only--come on, people, that is a LONG season, so let's be reasonable), I cheer when Manu makes a 3-pointer, and I totally back Timmy up when he flops for the 47th time in a game. However, I am not a fan in the sense that I'll grow a beard because I think it's good luck (this is hypothetical--work with me!), or wear the same shirt for ten days in a row without washing it because they won a game last time I wore it. Seth would and likely has done each of these things, and more. I won't go into it all, because it may frighten you for me. But I really love this about him. In a strange way, it's great to see him so passionate and dedicated. And it's a fun thing that we can enjoy together. Last year, when the Spurs won the National Championship, we went down to San Antonio to celebrate. Here are a couple pictures. It was an awesome trip, and for more reasons than just loving to travel, I hope they beat the Lakers and pull it off again this year so we can go again. Go, SPURS, GO!!!
So, one can reason: if one can become a Spurs fan just by being around someone else who lives and breathes the Spurs, one can also become an Italian by being inundated with Italian heritage, food, and lifestyle from the time they are born. Am I right, or am I right??
My step-great-grandpa was Italian. Straight from Italy. He was around for the first 6 years of my life, and as weird as it sounds, I remember him pretty well! He talked with a funny accent, and he made really, really good food. My large (in numbers, not in girth!), boisterous family, half of whom are Italian thanks to great-grandpa LaRosa, had tons of family get togethers, where all sorts of Italian dishes would be served. From a big pot of spaghetti and meatballs to delish Italian sausage and pepper sandwiches, we had it all.
While my dad wasn't one of the lucky ones to have the Italian gene passed down to him (my grandma was born before her mom married Grandpa LaRosa), he always told me, "Carly, we may not be Italians in our blood, but we're Italian at heart." Thank you, Dad. I believe and embrace that, no matter how many times Seth points out that I'm Croatian and should stop pretending to be Italian.
The end. Comments please! :)
P.S. Here is a picture of me being a good Italian girl