Atlanta, I love you…I love you not

If you read my previous posts, or better yet if you spend a few minutes with me, you will see a trend in my demeanor:  I love where I live.  My neighborhood is absolutely perfect for me.  In fact, I just got back from a lovely evening stroll through Piedmont Park with the man I love.  Truly–what is better than that?!  This time of year and then again the fall with all of the colors colors colors, it seems that everyone falls in love with my neighborhood.  And to be honest with you–I get a bit territorial, especially when Juniper Street is slammed with cars and there is no street parking anywhere and every patio within my four-block radius has a 45-minute wait.  I hoist up my Midtown-shaped chip and put it on my shoulder and wonder where all of these people came from.  But then I remember…I used to be one of them.  One of those OTPers.  (And p.s. I’m also dating one.  But I try not to hold that against him.)  I used to hop on Marta from the Perimeter and spend the day at Piedmont or Inman Park or Decatur, fully embracing the uniqueness of the neighborhoods, which is what makes Atlanta great.

Or does it?

Last night I had a love-you-not experience with my fair city.  I went to the Hawks vs. Bulls game.  Going to Hawks games has become one of my favorite things to do, this all thanks to said boyfriend who works his charm magic on the Ticket Girl at his job and we go to games for free every time.  And sit in either the lower level or the suite.  (I mean…Who do we think we are?!)  This was probably my tenth game this year, and I have a blast every time.  I even have a favorite player (Joe Johnson, number 2) and I know most of the team roster’s numbers, first names and last names.  And I actually watch the game–not just the timeout and halftime entertainment.  My point here is that I have never been more embarrassed to be an Atlantan than at the Hawks/Bulls game.  I could have been convinced we were in Chicago the way the arena was cheering for the Bulls.  Not the Hawks.  Not our home team.  And I was also at the Hawks/Knicks game a few weeks ago when the same thing happened–more Knicks fans than Hawks fans.  Granted, the Hawks’ record isn’t as stellar as the aforementioned teams, but still…they’re OUR TEAM.  As are the Braves.  And the Falcons.  And the Thrashers.  Where is our Southern pride in our home teams?  What happened to loyalty?

Dearest fellow Atlantans, you must shape up.  Love where you live.  We have a great city and chances are, you have a pretty fantastic neighborhood.  Love it.  Take care of it.  Sure, we have our love-you-not moments (traffic, crime, traffic, Marta, traffic, etc.), but let’s embrace what is so great about this city.  She really is awesome.

And for goodness sake, cheer for our teams!

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