who's in the kitchen: judy joszef

When it’s game time: Hot BBQ chicken wings

Posted

Judy’s off this week, so we’re reaching back three seasons — before the Mets were fabulous — to reprint a column from October 2012.

Fall football Sundays and post-season baseball usually wipes out “couple’s time” as we know it. Not in my case though. I’m a crazy diehard Atlanta Braves baseball and Miami Dolphin football fan, my husband Jerry is a Yankee and Giant’s fan.

A few years ago, my daughter walked into the house with a few friends just as I was shouting and waving my foam tomahawk back and forth (as we Braves fans lovingly call “the chop”) while cheering a player who had just homered. I hadn’t heard them come in, since I was in the study. Her girlfriends laughed, but the boys said, “Wow, that’s your mom, how cool!”

Imagine how cool they would have thought my 90 year old mom was had she been sitting near me at the time. She was a quick learner and did a mean “chop” accompanied by the chant.

When our games are on simultaneously, Jerry watches downstairs in the den, I’m up in the study, each of us wildly cheering our teams or, at times, groaning. I need to win every single game. Each loss is devastating to me. Last year, after the Brave’s first loss, Jerry said to me, “Judy, it’s just one game, and it’s the first week.” I said, “Every game counts, and in the end we could lose the division or the wildcard by one game.” Each time they lost in the first two months, Jerry would remind me that other teams will begin to fade come June and July and that I didn’t have to be concerned yet. He knew better than to come anywhere near me when we lost the wild card berth by “one” game.

Although a diehard Yankee fan, Jerry is an even more rabid Giants fan. No matter what part of the house I’m in, I know when they score or mess up a play. My leather sofas still have stress tears where he beat them mercilessly during the regular season last year, out of frustration.

Page 1 / 2