Please... It's Frisbee...and you're ladies...
I’m about to enlighten you to some shocking information I learned the other day. Apparently, at a certain point, playing competitive sports, like the mohawk, actually is not cool anymore. Don’t get me wrong, at first they were the bee's elbows. Sports were how you made friends and stayed in shape, and the mohawk was a great way to tell people that you probably weren’t going to college and were cool with that; but you better know when to hang up your jock straps-- yes, I wore a jock strap during every sport I played, even golf and bowling, you never know when you’re going to take one in the groin. My wife will thank me some day...that is if she can work around the jock strap-- yes, I wear a jock strap while I make love. I ask you; when are you more exposed to some incidental contact?
So, at a certain point, sports become… uncool, and like that kid who tries way too hard in gym class only to find out that the girls are terrified of him and the other guys are making fun of him… I was clueless. I wasn’t that kid in gym class… okay, maybe… seriously, I wasn’t… I was… or just maybe, he was me? Think about that.
Dude... It's gym class... You have jeans and glasses on...
So here is what went down earlier this week--
I wander into Macy's to purchase some navy blue, knee high socks for my adult league playoff basketball game, that for some reason I am able to get really amped up about. I start comparing thread counts when a female Macy’s employee approaches me. I would describer her as Gwyneth Paltrow with the face of Katie Perry, the hair of Justin Guarini -- American Idol One? Anyone? -- the legs of Lady Gaga and the eyes of Jennifer Love Hewitt. Now that you have a crystal clear mental image of her, let’s move on. Naturally she was drawn to me, not only because she worked at the store and it was her job, but also because I shower on Saturdays -- only on Saturdays -- and can work up quite an odor around…let’s say Thursday afternoon.
She asks me why I need knee-high socks. Stupid question! Who doesn’t need knee high socks, but I humor her, “Oh, just for a playoff game in my basketball league tonight. No big deal. (insert shoulder wipe off here) We’re the two seed, whatever (insert faux fade away three pointer here with smile, wink, and point at Macy’s employee).” To my surprise she did not start making out with me, instead her face scrunched up and she groaned, “You still play competitive sports? Weren’t you supposed to give those up when you stopped being good enough to play on the real team?”
For this poor little guy competitive sports ended before they began.
I was flummoxed to say the least. I sprinted from the store, sped back to my apartment and buried my face in my pillow. LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT! You’re telling me that chicks don’t dig 25 year-old washed up athletes, who wear knee-high socks in the consolation game of a noncompetitive, six foot and under, adult basketball league playing after hours in an undersized middle school gym??? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Could all women really feel this way? These are quadruple-thread knee-highs for heaven’s sake! I splurged! What’s next? It’s not cool to lay out for a 4’11”, 85 pound girl’s bloop pop-up in my co-ed kickball league? Is that what’s next? Guess what? It’s not next, it’s already gone. Not alright either! When did trying hard and being good at sports become not cool?
After just under six hours of crying in my bed -- I missed my game. We lost by 12, but both teams went out for salads and Mike’s Hard Lemonades after, and enjoyment was shared by all -- I came to the easy answer: The day you stopped being on a team with a coach, or the day you weren’t on the A-team anymore, or the day shirts and skins became a valid replacements for jerseys, or the day you looked to your right and noticed that there was a girl on the other team, or the day your parents stopped coming to your games, or the day the referee was a kid four years your junior, or the day someone said “Bro, turn it down a notch,” and people on your team agreed with him. That was the day, can you remember yours? For some, that was 4th grade, for others, it just hit you square in the nuts. That wooden bat, fast pitch baseball league you thought was bringing back some of your high school swag…doing quite the opposite. To quote a possibly drunk, almost definitely insane older black man:
“Pants on the ground
Pants on the ground
Lookin' like a fool with your pants on the ground.”
Crazy homeless man or prophetic genius?
Try and tell me this line doesn’t apply here. Maybe if we look at it literally, it doesn’t, but this man had deeper meaning for this verse. See, he’s not really talking about pants, or the ground for that matter, he’s talking about life. If you’re the “person” with his “pants” on the “ground,” then you are behind the times, the world is “changing” around you and you’re stuck looking like a fool. Sports are fun while you’re on the “real” team, but when you’re not good enough to make it anymore -- if you are out of college that does in fact mean a professional team -- maybe it’s time to take up a non-competitive leisure activity like antiquing. Just a thought…
Author's Note: Forget everything I just said and really give 100% in your house wives’ doubles tennis match this week. If you’re not winning, they are, and if they’re winning, they think their kids are better than yours. WHICH IS BULLSHIT! It’s not my fault my mother sucks at tennis!
Moving Optional -- Dying Probable.
Also, screw that woman at Macy's, she couldn’t close a sure fire sale. What a loser. LONG LIVE COMPETITIVE SPORT!
Next Post: How to build a barometer with a violin and a slice of rye bread.
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