2007: The Year of the Flying V

For me, the start of 2007 is about 5 hours too heavy. At least for the purposes of this post, the year 2007 started at 7:15 PM on December 31, 2006. Why, you ask? Well, at about that time Robbie Gould was kicking a football to the return man for the Green Bay Packers, and a few minutes later, the Flying V was on.

The Flying V (not the guitar pictured to the left, it's just a non sequitur) is that little reaction your gut gets every time a play by your favorite sports team goes awry. It's that dry heave you feel when a hometown batter strikes out with the bases loaded and trailing with two outs in the bottom of the 9th. It's that stomach jerk you feel when a goalie gives up a sudden death overtime goal to an arch rival. It's the sour stink that rumbles thru your olfactory nerves after the gut punch that is missing a game winning field goal.

Scott Norwood knows all about it, as do most of the denizens of Buffalo, New York. And the Flying V appeared in mass quantities mere seconds after the T.V. announcer uttered those famous words, "Wide right!"

Yes, the Flying V is ubiquitous in sports, professional and amateur. Some athletes and even fans acquire the syndrome pregame, some feel its wrath while in play, but most enjoy -- in a William Wallace purged by pain way -- its grip and hold shortly after the final buzzer sounds.

And this first four days of 2007, I've experienced the Flying V in all its gory glory.

Bears vs. Packers. Bulls vs. Suns. Notre Dame vs. LSU.

The appearance of the Flying V at the Bears/ Packers mess was a little unexpected. After all, the game was meaningless -- even for the Packers. Whether the Bears won or lost, their fate was sealed, and I thought I could sit and watch the game in relative comfort and without the aid of some TUMS or Rolaids. But when Rex Grossman decides to relive the Arizona, Miami and New England game ALL IN ONE HALF, and his backup decided to end any controversy by making Kyle Orton look like a better option, the Flying V is bound to find its mark. And in two weeks, when the Bears take the field for their playoff game, the Flying V will undoubtedly be present.

As for the Notre Dame/ LSU beat down (I will get to the Bulls vs. Suns later), not many people were giving the Golden Child, St. Charles and the Caucasian wide receiver much of a chance, but the loyalty invested in a college football team runs deeper than the San Andreas fault and a magnetism drew my hand to the remote control to suffer what was sure to be another appearance of the Flying V.

I wasn't disappointed.

14-0 at the end of the 1st quarter, a missed FG, a turnover and a momentum killing drive late in the 2nd quarter was all this ND fan needed to feel the stinging wrath of the Flying V. Halftime presented me an opportunity to escape the Flying V's clutches -- a diversion, a trip to bountiful -- and I took it, spared the walls of the viewing room any more abuse, and retired to a restaurant without an idiot box.

Not long enough.

Upon my return, idiot turns idiot box back on. Commercial. First jerk of the Flying V. Another commercial. Anchovy-laden stomach lurches a little more. Bingo. Scoreboard. 34-14. Return of the Flying V in all his olive and green pepper glory. Bathroom. Porcelain god. Good night. Winner: 2007's Flying V.

I take the case of the Flying V associated with the Bulls vs. Suns very seriously for it was the worst form of the entity -- the sudden, gripping malignancy that accompanies any groin shot. That night, that dastardly dirty Tuesday night the Bulls were on their way to ascending to the conference throne. They were even captain-less and still they were playing cat and mouse with the highest scoring team in the NBA. They controlled the tempo, passed the ball like the immortal team from Hickory, and had their own Jimmy Chitwood knocking down shot after shot after shot.

But the 2007 Flying V wouldn't let this night be. No, he turned January 3rd into the next January 1st, better known as National Hangover Day. And as Leandro Barbosa is raising up for his game winning three pointer, in unison the Flying V is rising up in my throat, bringing with it all its Miller Lite and Black Haus badness to remind me that I have no control over the sickness. I have no ability to stop the madness that is the 2007 Flying V, and he's gonna be around all year long.

Yes, that night I realized I'm in for some grave disappointments this season. Will it be the Bears losing it Super Bowl? Will it be another first round playoff exit for the Bulls? Who knows. What I do know is that the 2007 will be the Year of the Flying V, and I'm helpless to stop it. Who knows, maybe it's even warning me of a Cubs World Series win to be.

Me and my damn queasy stomach.