Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Hear My Sports Confession

Forgive me Sports Father -

I think I might have sinned. Or in the process of sinning. I'm not talking about the other 6 tabs that I have open in my browser, either. Overlook the fact that I'm not wearing pants.

I used to maintain football was my favorite sport. All time. I played it, I lived it, I have football cards that never saw the spoke of a bicycle. These days, I don't get jazzed up for football season like I used to. Hell, there were three Cowboy games that I didn't even watch this year. Now that it's over, I miss it, sure. And as fall approaches, I will look forward to it, but it's not like it used to be.

I know what some of you will say: "He's champion chasing, just like all those other Dallas ass-hats". To that I say, nay, sir... Nay. Basketball season didn't start until December this year and I didn't miss it. Though I don't mind basketball, you won't find me buying tickets (but I will go if anyone has extras).

Hockey has never really been on my radar. I do like to see live games, but can't think of the last game I watched on TV.

No, baseball is where it is at. I am looking forward to sitting in my game chair, shirtless, with Dorito crumbs in my chest hair. I am looking forward to living and dying with each pitch, each win and loss. I look forward to bitching about how long spring training is and wondering why we can't just "get on with it". I'm even debating starting a Twitter account to do just that so I can beat you into submission on two social fronts.

Now that my sins are off my chest, I feel better. Don't worry, Cowboys, Stars, Mavericks, and Sidekicks, I still love you all. As a life-long resident, all of my favorite teams have always have had "Texas" or "Dallas" in front of them (exception: OU).

If you will excuse me, I have to put on some Broken Wings by Mr. Mister, force myself to cry, and comfort myself. By "comfort myself", I mean abuse myself. By "abuse myself", I mean play a little 5 on 1. By "play a little 5 on 1", I mean slam the spam. By "slam the spam", I mean... Screw it, I've finished already.

Thank you for reading, human-heads.

Yours in Christ,


Andy said...

The Pickled Mick shoots and scores. ewww, that's kind gross given the last few statements. How do you score in that activity? By hitting Super Toe in the head? Miley Cyrus' US Weekly photo?

Gotta go.

poon4life said...

I would love to hit Miley in her cut out eye holes. Wait, what?