Our youngest son was playing in a youth basketball league recently, and the coach called a time-out during the third quarter. He pulled all the players together in a huddle, and reportedly yelled, “What’s wrong with you guys today?! You’re playing like a bunch of crippled girls!”
After the team came back to win, in an exciting down-to-the-wire finish, he told them it was because of his “crippled girl speech.” That’s what he called it, and apparently fancies himself a modern-day Lombardi now.
Next time I see him, at Rite-Aid or Bennigan’s, he’ll probably be sporting a full trench coat and hat.
But here’s how it’ll play itself out… I’ve seen this kind of thing before. Next year, still jacked-up on success, he’ll be the first parent to volunteer, and will, at some point during the season, feel compelled to break out his inspirational sermon again.
Only this time he’ll probably take it up another notch (I know human nature), and replace “crippled girls” with “big retarded babies” or “passel o’ water-heads,” or something along those lines. And a parent will hear about it – a parent who doesn’t share my, um, sensibilities – and the whole world will come crashing down on the poor bastard.
Yeah, I could warn him about it. But where would be the fun in that?
At a previous basketball game, the same coach was trying to get his team whipped into a frenzy, and instructed the kids on the bench to “make some noise.”
The younger Secret was sitting out that quarter, and loves to “make some noise,” as do most fourth graders. Man, the volume was amazing. The shrillness… the piercing tones… the insanity… I wanted to ask the coach, “Why? Why in God’s name??”
It was almost impossible to hear any individual kid and figure out what they were hollering, but I zeroed in on our son and tried my best. And I thought I could hear/lip-read him saying the words “Cheap Trick.”
After the game, I asked what he was yelling, and he said, “Thank you, Tokyo! Cheap Trick says goodnight!!” I’m not really sure what I think about that, but for some reason it makes me proud.
I have a cousin who is a truck driver (needless to say), and he recently “lost an engine” on the road. Since the repair job promised to be lengthy and involved, he took a Greyhound bus home.
And when they stopped somewhere, he says there was a male nurse (or somesuch) pushing an enormous woman in a wheelchair, both waiting to board the bus. My cousin got off to buy a Coke, and overheard the following conversation between some random man, and the person pushing the chair.
Random: Boy, that’s a lot of wheelchair.
Pusher: Well, it’s a lot of woman. The chair weighs 800 pounds, and she’s almost 600 herself.
When my cousin got back from the vending machines, they had the wheelchair, along with its ample cargo, situated on a hydraulic lift. They were trying to get her onto the bus, but he said the motor was laboring a great deal.
Finally, he reports, something gave-out, there was a loud hissing sound, and the platform collapsed. And when she hit the ground, the chair bounced from its clamps, and it and the woman went rolling over an embankment.
Can that possibly be true? I have my doubts. It reminds me of the stories I used to hear when I worked at a convenience store in West Virginia. You know: super-exaggerated boolshit.
But it made me laugh, nonetheless.
Surf Reporter Todd sent me a link to this YouTube clip, that had me howling. Man, that’s good stuff. Because it’s true, so very true.
And there’s been coverage, over the past few days, about how evil Americans are ruining the Earth, once again, with their decadent ways. This time, through the use of fancy-pants toilet paper… Here’s but one news article; there were plenty of others.
Also, a few of you sent me this related link, to a site where it’s possible to purchase reusable shitrags. Can you imagine? I cannot. Blecch.
In any case, it leads us to the Question of the Day… Have you ever wiped with anything other than toilet paper? How’s that for a discussion subject, hmmm?
For the record, I don’t think I have. In England I was forced to use something the consistency of copier paper, but it was on a roll and still technically TP. I’ve never found myself in a situation where I had to wipe with a sock, or a handful of leaves, or a river current, or the spinning wheel of an exercise bike.
What about you? Tell us about it, won’t you? Or any butt-wiping tales, for that matter…. And while we’re at it, if you have anything on wheelchair mayhem, that would be fantastic, as well.
And I’ll see you guys tomorrow.