Rally Monkey

I'm what some people might call a "fair weather fan" when it comes to sports. I don't think that's accurate, necessarily, because it seems to imply that I only enjoy a sporting contest when my team is doing well. More to the point, I don't really have a whole lot of teams that I'd bother to call mine. I'm a Red Sox fan, of course, because it's my birthright, but I follow them fairly casually, for most of the summer. I'll watch if they happen to be on when I'm flipping through the channels. I might even go so far as to click on a link as I read the day's headlines. But I don't really start paying attention to any team until it comes to play-off time. There's almost nothing that can make me watch football, and hockey is completely out of the question, fights or no fights. But basketball, and baseball especially, are two sports that I can get behind, once it's crunch time. I'd say I'm more of a Johnny-come-lately, sports-wise.
Which is why the Los Angeles Angels were not on my radar screen. Really, why should they be? Well I'll tell you why--a little something they call the Rally Monkey. Now if you're like me, you probably didn't know there was such a thing, which is a real shame. We were watching the last game of the Red Sox-Angels series this weekend, when out of nowhere, a tiny monkey, which appeared to be licking a treat of some sort, flashed across the screen. "Was that a monkey?" I asked, to no one in particular. Indeed it was. But not just any monkey--a Rally Monkey. And there are rules. The Rally Monkey only appears when the Angels are tied or trailing by three runs or less in the 7th inning or later, with a runner on base. Which I think is great, because it'd be just like us humans to overuse something like the Rally Monkey, draining it of all its magic, without rules.
And then I was thinking I might like a Rally Monkey of my own. You know, for those days when I'm feeling overwhelmed, because I just don't have enough time to do all of the things that need to be done. Or on those really long drives home, when I start feeling like hurling a grenade into the nearest SUV. I think a Rally Monkey would make me feel much better in general. I would, however, take a page from the Angels' play book and implement rules governing use of the monkey. Like--only if it's 6 pm and I'm still just three blocks from the office. Or if we've entered hour three of a meeting at work. And I wouldn't even use him on the weekends at all. Scout's honor.