The Last 35 Years

Yesterday was a major milestone in my life. A day that made me question everything that I had ever done and reflect on the many decisions I had made or supported. A day that forever changes the course of human history.

That’s right…it was the day the Giants won the Super Bowl.

I spent Super Bowl Sunday the same way I have every year – by not watching football. This is mostly because I don’t give a rats ass about sports and partly because I just don’t care.

My lack of love for all things sports related dates back to high school. I know it may be hard to believe, but once upon a time I was not as good-looking or athletically fit as I am now. I have definitely come a long way from being a small and completely uncoördinated teenager! As matter of fact, the only thing “sporty” about me was my line of casual jackets and that little blue coupé I used to drive before I ran it into a pole at 87 MPH.

While I only have pictures left of that car, I do still have an exciting line of casual jackets!

My loathing of sports continued past the years of bullying and humiliation that I incurred in high school. When you are 6’4″ and only weigh about 135 lbs, you are bound to draw a lot of the wrong kind of attention. Luckily as I got older I managed to put on some weight (of course now it is a battle to not become fat).

In my early twenties, friends and I would play football after work. Getting tackled in a parking lot isn’t as fun as you would think it would be. Luckily I was so drunk during these games that I barely remember them! Once we let a homeless guy play with us, but then Rob tackled him which immediately caused everyone to agree that playing ball with a guy that smells like feces is not fun.

A bad knee and some deep abrasions full of gravel later, I was completely over sports…until my friend Dave invited me to play hockey…now it must be said that I can not ice skate nor can I roller blade very well…previously I had broken my wrist trying to impress a girl while on roller blades – which if you don’t know getting hurt will not make you more attractive.

So anyway, I went to the Igloo in Ellenton, Florida. I got a pair of skates and made my way to the ice. It was as I was starting to lace up the shoes that came with knives on the bottom that I witnessed three guys begin to beat the hell out of each other with hockey sticks. One guy spilled over the wall and knocked me over. It was then I realized that I had no f***ing business playing a sport that I neither understood nor had any sort of proficiency at! I unlaced my skates immediately and never stepped out on to the rink.

Then I figured, if I can’t play sports then I would watch them…but I could never stay awake. If it wasn’t because it was boring, then it was because I was drunker than shit and passed out on a couch while spooning with a German Shepard named Mika.

I then tried to take up fake sports like bowling. Until my finger got stuck in a ball and I fell over on my face when I went to let it go, which caused me to slide part way down the lane. Or the time I took up golf and wrecked the cart in the water hazard costing me almost 2 thousand dollars in repairs – I say don’t let the carts accelerate over 35 MPH and put in hills if you don’t want us re-enacting Evel Knievel’s greatest hits!

To keep my masculinity in check I decided that I would work during all major games and would date women that were demanding. Of course all of these women turned out to be bigger sports fans than some of the guys I knew! So now, not only did I hate talking sports with my friends, I was forced to hear someone complain about them under my own roof.

I couldn’t escape them! They even tend to hold the Super Bowl on my birthday – like this year!!

Just like a few weekends ago I decided that I could play tackle football with my 300 lb, 16-year-old nephew. This went about as well as one could expect, except for the part where I think he may have fractured my ribs.

So, sports…I am now going to give you a finger (you know which one) for the last 35 years! Thanks for making me feel inferior and useless, less manly, sub-par, and for using me as your little bitch…


One comment on “The Last 35 Years

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