Author: Matthew Groff

  • My Heart is Bigger than My Head

    Not that anyone asked, but here are the teams I follow:

    MLB: Chicago Cubs

    NFL: Dallas Cowboys

    NBA: Sort of the Dallas Mavericks and the New York Knicks

    NHL: Nope

    Premier League: Tottenham Hotspur FC

    It breaks down like this:

    My family is from the Chicago area, and my grandfather on my mother’s side was a huge Cubs fan; it’s in my DNA.

    I grew up outside of Dallas, and that should explain the Cowboys.

    Never was a huge basketball fan, but I had fun during the Durk/Nash years, and I live in NYC now and the Knick are the least offensive sports team to me, due to my being a Cubs and Cowboys fan.

    I was a huge Dallas Stars fan in the late 90’s and early 2000’s, BUT I never forgave the league or the players for the 2004-5 Lockout. Hockey is dead to me.

    The first Premier League match I watched was Tottenham, and threw my hat in with them. I made my choice and I can’t change it.

                The reason I bring all of this up is because, in my life, being a sports fan is not a logical thing. It more based on an emotional response than anything logical. I sort of have a low simmering distaste for people who move to a new city and stop following their old teams and latch on to the ones in their new city; where’s the loyality?

    I will never not be a Cubs or a Cowboys fan. No matter how bad they are, or dwelling in the middle as they seem to do of recent, I will still show up for those teams. Sure, it’s hard to be a Cubs and Cowboys fan in the land of Yankees, Mets, and Giants, (Luckily, Jets fans give me a pass) but I take their ridicle as a badge of honor.

    But I am sure having some issues with Tottenham right now. I had written the team off a couple of weeks ago, but then the tied Liverpool and played a good match against Madrid. I thought for sure they had turned a corner, and would beat Nottingham Forest on Sunday, or at the worst, force a draw. I never in a million years thought I would watch a whole team give up in the second half of a game.

    I picked my club, and come hell or high water, I’m with them.

    Lord in Heaven, though… they are sure as hell testing me. Seeing how far they can push me. Will I follow them into a relegation into the Championship? Will I join in on the protest against the owner group? Should I just put a paper bag on my head when I watch the final seven matches of the season? Cause it seems like that’s what the team is asking me to do.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Who Are These People?, I Have Hope Again, and NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament

    ODDS and ENDS: Who Are These People?, I Have Hope Again, and NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament

    (Of course you’re not shy…)

    I don’t spend much time on Facebook anymore, ever since my nieces and nephews told me that only old people go on that site. As I am clearly not an old person, I have stayed away from Facebook. Except for the daily check in I do, because I need to check in and see what the other old people are up to. There is a section on Facebook I generally skip over and it’s the “People You May Know” part. Today, I decided to flip though it to see if I might know any of them. And I get what the algorithm is trying to do, which is connect people to me that my other “friends” know, so inherently, most of these people I won’t know. But, going through the list, I started to play the game of “Do I know this person, because they look familiar?” I would see a face, then ask myself, did I take a class with this person in college? Or, did I do a show with this person? Or, did I work with this person? Honestly, I can’t remember anymore, which made me feel old. Which is fitting as only old people go on Facebook.

    Stupid Tottenham Hotspur on Wednesday went on beat Atlético Madrid at Tottenham. Sure, they did lose the on aggregate and are out of the Champions League now, but they won a match at home. And the whole team looked like they gave a shit. Which now means that they went out and gave all of us supports the feeling that hope was alive. That on Sunday when they face off against Nottingham Forest, another team fighting not to be relegated, that we have a Spurs team to root for. A team that doesn’t want to be embarrassed. A team that is willing to dig deep and fight to the final whistle. And just when I had written the club off, now I have to go back to caring again.

    Oh, my bracket is shot to hell. Not awful, but I did make some really bad picks. My problem with making a bracket for the tournament is that I will always pick the underdog. Sometimes it works out really well, making it look like I knew something that everyone else didn’t. Like how I picked TCU, VCU, Texas A&M, Texas, and Saint Louis. Of the first 16 games, I had picked 7 upsets. Maybe not the most logical system for picking winners, but I can’t deny who I am. I like giant killers.

  • Short Story Review: “My Balenciaga” by Han Ong

    (The short story “My Balenciaga” by Han Ong appeared in the March 23rd, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Harold Julian for The New Yorker

    I love the use of McGuffins as a plot device in storytelling. It gives instant motivation, and when used well, can give valued insight into a character’s constitution as they seek the MacGuffin. (In case you aren’t aware what a MacGuffin is, think of the Maltese Falcon, Ark of the Covenant or the Death Star plans.)  I would argue that the Balenciaga dress in Han Ong’s “My Balenciaga” is the same plot device, but used in a dramatic, rather that thriller/action, setting.

    The Balenciaga dress is owned by Lucy’s mother, who is a former fashion model from the Philippians. The mother received the dress many years ago while she was working as an international model, and confusingly, the dress does not contain a Balenciaga label in it, making its authenticity suspect. Lucy and her mother live with Lucy’s aunt on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, and the three lead a pleasant life in the City. The mother still continues to wear the dress on special occasion out, such as going to the Met to watch an opera. After the death of Nora Aunor, a Philippine actress, which affect Lucy’s mother personally, things begin to change in their home. For Lucy, she changes her appearance and tries on the dress, which fits her well, and soon her personal and professional life begin to develop in positive ways. Yet there is still a question over the dress’ origination.

    This is a story that hits all of its marks; it is a very competent work. Yet, I never felt like anything was at stake for these characters, such as there was no emotional peril for Lucy or her mother. I believe that Han Ong was trying to create tension with the dress by playing with the idea of “The Value of Myth.” (You know, like in “The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance” or “Lisa the Iconoclast”) What is more important; the truth about the myth, or the truth the myth creates? No matter which side of this question is answered, I felt that the characters would essentially stay the same. Hence, no tension or peril.

    Perhaps the story was a little too long, spending more time telling rather than showing, so to speak. And, unfortunately, I think you could have taken the aunt out of the story, and it wouldn’t have changed anything. But, I did enjoy the character of Lucy, and found her journey in the story compelling; the search for connection with her mother. Which is why I see the Balenciaga dress as this story’s MacGuffin.

  • Earworm Wednesday: It’s That Song From That Cartoon!

    I will admit that “Me and My Arrow” by Harry Nilsson re-entered my life this week due to a Spotify generated playlist, not from my own music knowledge. And if you don’t know, this song is part of a cartoon that Nilsson created and wrote in 1970 called The Point! I remember seeing it on cable, sometime in the 80’s, and what stuck with me about the show was the wise man, or dude, who tells the hero that, “not having a point, is a point.” That little piece of philosophical logic has stuck with me my whole life.

    As to the song, “Me and My Arrow,” when I heard it this week, it struck me as familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I had to look it up, and I think where I truly remember it from is an episode of The Simpsons that used it. But when I read it was from the cartoon The Point!, then it all came back to me. Just a little gem of my childhood. And I had no idea that the great Harry Nilsson was responsible for it all.

    Oh, and what just stuck in my head is the whole thing. I’ve been humming it all week.

  • Where Did That Come From? Aliens?

    I got a little tiny cut on the knuckle of my left ring finger, right above my wedding ring. It is a tiny little cut, barely there, but there enough to let me know that there is a tiny little cut on that finger. The perplexing part of this injury is that I have no idea how I received it. I just know that when I was walking home from parking the car this morning, I felt it on my hand.

    I didn’t come in contact with anything sharp as I completed the task of moving the car. Yet I know that I didn’t have it when I left the apartment, or at least I know that I wasn’t being annoyed by a tiny cut when I left home.

    This isn’t the first time of late that I have discovered some sort of injury on my body that I have no idea where it came from. Most of the time, I chock it up to playing around with the kid. I had a small bruise on my arm once that was a total mystery. A little scrap on my knee I discovered over the winter – when I had been wearing pants every day.

    Am I getting to the age when I forget things, or becoming so numb that I just don’t notice when something hits me?

    Even though this situation is nothing like the example I am about to give, but what this reminds me of is people being abducted by aliens, and the weird cut and bumps they discover after their encounters. Maybe that’s what’s happening to me?

    Or, what if I am being abducted by aliens, and I’m losing time in all, but what if the aliens are really clumsy with people? Like they have trouble keeping humans walking in a straight line, and the people walk into doors or walls? Or the aliens drop instruments on people. Not all the time, but accidents are known to happen, right?

    And then, what if these aliens got written warnings and bad performance reviews, and they lost their jobs abducting and probing people because of their sloppy work ethic?

    Then there is some alien sitting in a bar back on his home planet, getting drunk and bitching to his friend how his boss was a total dick, and he was set up to fail because his boss never offered any help or guidance, even when he asked for it. Then that alien goes on to tell his friend that his boss is totally screwed now because he was the one that kept the whole abducting and probing operation working, and it’s going to take them months to get everything back on track because that alien was the one who knew how everything worked.

    But then the alien’s friend tells him that the abducting/probing job wasn’t that great of a job anyway. They order another round, and talk about starting their own abducting/probing company if only they could get the money together.

    Or maybe I cut my finger on a sharp key on my key chain when I reached into my pocket.

    Maybe.