The National Egg Toss Championship is unique among most national championships. Unless you can name one in which some of the opponents are sleeping together.

In a few hours, Carie and I will say goodnight to Mike and Jodie and we’ll retire to separate rooms in a Baltimore hotel, like proper married couples.

But shortly after the Hagerstown Suns wrap up their game against the Hickory Crawdads tomorrow afternoon, we’ll all take off our wedding rings. The move will be equally functional and symbolic. Functionally, it makes no sense to throw eggs with a piece of metal attached to your hand, no matter how precious the metal may be.

The symbolism is probably more meaningful.

Once the egg toss starts, the only partner I’ll have eyes for is a 5-foot-10 father of two who mows grass for a living and thinks formal attire is a collared New York Giants shirt paired with a fitted Mets hat. Likewise, I imagine that Carie will feel the same way about Jodie, her egg tossing partner. Yesterday, in fact, I spotted a particularly cocky exchange between Carie and Jodie on Facebook.

Jodie Rivers Hepp: National Egg Toss Championship this weekend… Carie and I might get to see our husbands cry when we take them down.

Carie Page: I have big news on this front…. a friend of mine gave me a sure thing tip today. And I’m not telling the boys!

Jodie Rivers Hepp: new egg strategy- nice carie!

Enraged, I immediately started to respond. I nearly fired off, “Here’s a tip, sweetheart: learn how to catch.” But I knew better. The last thing we needed the night before a 6-hour road trip was an all-out war. Hours later, I settled on a more democratic response.

Jon Page: I’ve got a great tip for you ladies. Find a bookie and bet next month’s mortgages on Jon and Mike.

The thing is, Carie might have a lucky streak going. We’re at a Baltimore Orioles game right now, but we came here early so we could watch the US-Ghana World Cup game with our good friends Dave and Diddy. Against my advice, Carie wore a Pittsburgh Steelers shirt into Baltimore Ravens territory. Miraculously, however, midway through the US game, two complimentary chicken wing baskets were delivered to our table. Minutes later, our waiter appeared. He seemed furious. In a bar full of screaming fans, he had to yell at us.

“Who here is from Pittsburgh,” he demanded.

All eyes turned to me.

Cowardly, I pointed to my wife and her incriminating shirt.

“That’s awesome,” he said, excitedly. “Where exactly are you from?”

Again, all eyes returned to me.

“Ummm. My mom is from Pittsburgh, actually,” I said. “She’s from Wilkinsburg.”

“Cool. I’m from New Kensington. That’s why I gave you guys the wings.”

I just hope I’m not as much of a coward tomorrow. And I hope Carie takes me back once this thing is over.

To read more about our intra-marital egg tossing rivalry, click here.

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