Not Possible Anymore
Went to a graduation party a couple of weeks ago and was stuck playing one game that I hate - horsehoes.
I don't hate the concept, of the game, and I certainly didn't mind spending time with three of my best buddies in the world, but I have to hate the game.
Because I've always really sucked at it.
Yet, as luck might have it, I have one buddy who is a freak at all things competitive and I have made a lot of money just being his partner in a lot of two-man events.
I cheer him on.
He tells me how bad I suck.
We win.
So we started throwing shoes.
The other team battled right along, but I captained my team to victory by 21 to 15.
I scored one point.
That particular shoe slipped out of my hand.
I let everyone know what a great toss it was.
While we played I thought of all the other games we'd all played through the years. Basketball, tennis, baseball. Game after game. We all had a few skills. A couple of the guys playing had a lot of skills.
I always had the biggest mouth.
We started the second game and my partner opened up the scoring with a ringer and another point that just missed being a ringer.
I mentioned to the other team that they were getting their asses kicked again, and that I was on the winning team.
I glanced at the tennis courts. I couldn't even fathom trying to play a competitive game now and I had loved that game.
I scored a point.
I ran my mouth.
I scored another.
Ran my mouth some more.
We won again.
I had totaled 7 points in the second game.
A true career high.
One thing is still possible:
I can still talk a great game.
(Dedicated to JC and Millie: You guys suck at shoes).
I don't hate the concept, of the game, and I certainly didn't mind spending time with three of my best buddies in the world, but I have to hate the game.
Because I've always really sucked at it.
Yet, as luck might have it, I have one buddy who is a freak at all things competitive and I have made a lot of money just being his partner in a lot of two-man events.
I cheer him on.
He tells me how bad I suck.
We win.
So we started throwing shoes.
The other team battled right along, but I captained my team to victory by 21 to 15.
I scored one point.
That particular shoe slipped out of my hand.
I let everyone know what a great toss it was.
While we played I thought of all the other games we'd all played through the years. Basketball, tennis, baseball. Game after game. We all had a few skills. A couple of the guys playing had a lot of skills.
I always had the biggest mouth.
We started the second game and my partner opened up the scoring with a ringer and another point that just missed being a ringer.
I mentioned to the other team that they were getting their asses kicked again, and that I was on the winning team.
I glanced at the tennis courts. I couldn't even fathom trying to play a competitive game now and I had loved that game.
I scored a point.
I ran my mouth.
I scored another.
Ran my mouth some more.
We won again.
I had totaled 7 points in the second game.
A true career high.
One thing is still possible:
I can still talk a great game.
(Dedicated to JC and Millie: You guys suck at shoes).
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