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BatiGol Weekly 224: Diane Young

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In which we discuss knowing when it’s the right time to break it off with that one special someone.

Nobody knows what the future holds and it’s bad enough just getting old. Live my life in self-defense, you know I love the past because I hate suspense.
Photo by Paolo Bruno/Getty Images

I’ve been dumped plenty of times in my life. That doesn’t surprise me, in hindsight, as I kind of sucked at being in relationships until pretty recently. All of those dumpings were predictable and well-merited, and I can’t really blame the dumpers for doing the deed. Only once in my life, though, have I actually dumped someone, and that was a feeling that was way more uncomfortable.

We’d been together for about six months, although I never thought we were all that serious about it. However, after month four or so, we started getting in arguments about stupid things: why my hands were dirty (because I was a construction worker at the time and there are some industrial grade gunks that water and soap simply aren’t designed to combat) or which restaurant we were going to for dinner (she knew a lot more about food than me) or when we were going to hang out with her friends (preferably never). For those who aren’t dummies, that’s usually a good sign that things are going south. For the rest of us, it’s not, because we’re dummies.

One evening we got into a spat. She tended to be loudly outspoken about most things, while I’m generally pretty reserved in real life. However, I got really worked up about whatever we were discussing and raised my voice (which I hadn’t done since I was a child and haven’t since) before storming out of the apartment to give my head a chance to clear. When I went back after a couple of hours spent wandering around the most scenic underpasses the area had to offer, I told her that it wasn’t working and that I wasn’t coming back. I was as gentle about it as I could be, but I still obviously hurt her feelings pretty badly; looking back, I was pretty ham-fisted about it, for which my only defense is that I was and remain a dummy.

Although I generally hate hurting anyone (to paraphrase John Mulaney’s wife in his Kid Gorgeous bit, it’s like I’m running for the mayor of nowhere), I can safely say that I did the correct thing, even if the execution was rather poor. It’s a lot easier to break things off with someone after six months than it is after, oh, ten years. If you can’t fix what’s broken, you’ll go insane.

But this blog isn’t the sort of place for anything that could possible be a metaphor for something Fiorentina-related, so we’ll just go ahead and end this one here.

Latest news

We’re only 6 weeks away from the January mercato, which means it’s definitely time for very believable rumors to start cropping up. So, uh, Ryan Babel, anyone?

If you’re having trouble sleeping, maybe you can read all of our coverage of Fiorentina’s most recent 1-1 draw with Frosinone. It’ll either put you out like a light or run your blood pressure up to distressing levels.

Must read

The work on the new Mercafir stadium has (kind of, sort of, maybe, possibly, half-assedly, preliminarily, conditionally, and potentially) begun. Party!

Remember how AC Milan somehow squirmed back into the Europa League despite a set of finances that make the Cecchi Goris look stable? Well, more details have emerged, and they’re pretty much exactly what you’d expect.

We’ve got progress reports on the Viola loanees in Series A and B.

We’re still chugging along with our efforts to pick out Fiorentina’s greatest-ever XI, and we’ve got the right wingers ready for your votes.

Poll

No poll today exactly, but rather an open question: What is the best breakup song of all time? There are no right and wrong answers. Unless someone names any madrigals, in which case, yeah, that’s a wrong answer.

Comment of the week

Cheers to m.atthew for describing the Frosinone match in three words when I would have burned up about two thousand. Punchy and concise, just like they teach you in the Intro to Blogging course.

That’s it for this week, folks.