
Last night, I sat down to watch some mindless TV with the hubby. "Oh," I said. "Baseball."
"It's the American League Championship," hubby said, unhelpfully.
Baseball. Cutie butts in tight pants, thought I. But then, "Oh. My. God. Is that pitcher wearing...sweatpants?"
Hubby (having not looked at any players behinds, notices). "Yeah, they are kinda loose. That's weird."
Weird? In my mind, the only thing baseball has going for it is that the players have such cute tushies and wear those darling, stretchy baseball pants. (My baseball apathy probably stems from the fact that I grew up in Cincinnati and the Reds haven't won a series of any kind since...well, have they ever? I mean, they're probably the only team that hasn't changed cities and that's because nobody wants them.)
Anyway, this C.C. Sabathia guy in his sweatpants totally ruined my baseball watching event last night, and reminded me of a post I did years ago on sweatpants. I've posted it below, so you know how I feel about sweatpants.
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SWEATPANTS:
Have you ever considered how really gross this concept is? Sweatpants. Pants into which...we sweat. Realistic as it may be, doesn't it seem like retailers could come up with a better name? Like active pants or stretchy pants or exercise pants. Truth be told, sweat pants often aren't worn for sweating. They're worn for comfort, for lounging, for eating a whole bucket of greasy fried chicken in front of the TV and wiping your hands on your pants and not caring. How about calling them 'fried chicken pants'?
I'm writing about sweatpants today because of my best friend. Recently divorced, she's found herself entering the dating scene after a 15 year hiatus. Things have changed since we were last single, and I've enjoyed hearing about her adventures in dating. She joined an online service and, just last week, had her first date. I emailed her yesterday to see how it went. She replied thus:
{{...it was awful!!!!!!!! He is my height and weighs at least 350 lbs. He is bald and he showed up in a t-shirt and sweat pants. Plus he had so much cologne on I couldn't breath. When he tried to make a move on me I told him the truth -- I was not interested. The entire episode has given me the willies.}}}
As you've probably guessed, what bothered me most was the part about the sweat pants. Hello!?? You're meeting a person for the first time, someone you're ostensibly attracted to, someone you might even conceivably want to see again...and you show up wearing PANTS FOR SWEATING? ???
If you want to impress someone, shouldn't you wear something nice? Something that says, "This is a big deal for me; I'm excited to meet you". Do pants-for-sweating say that? No sir, they do not. Pants-for-sweating say, "I don't really care what you think of me. I just want to be comfortable and would, in fact, rather be home in front of my TV with my chicken bucket watching The Biggest Loser."
I suppose there could be other interpretations. Maybe this guy was a really sweaty person and he wanted something that would soak up his sweat instead of letting it drench my friends couch. Or, maybe it was an unconscious commentary on how attractive he found my friend--he fully expected to do a lot of sweating (I'm referring to him being nervous here...get your minds out of the gutters.) Or, maybe, he thinks he looks really sexy in pants for sweating. I'll never know--I didn't meet the guy.
Whatever the reason, I, being the best friend, am allowed to hand down the final verdict on the poor soul. And I say it was very disrespectful for him to wear sweatpants on a first date, and therefore recommend no further dates. End of story. Now, if you'll excuse me...I've got a sudden craving for fried chicken.