Tag Archives: sports

Today I add two new badges to my resume, degerate gambler and best teammate ever — you’re welcome Team 8

I think I have a lot of ‘badges’ in this life.

Drunken idiot?”  Check.

“Loud-mouth political hack?” Oh yeah.

“Idiot with a blog that thinks his opinion matters?” Both of my hands are up.

“Person that obsesses over boobs too much?”  I’m looking at boobs right now which explans the awkwsentance that you read … I mean yes, that’s me too.

But today we can add two new ones.

Degenerate gambler and best team mate ever.

See, I was on a bowling team.   Which is retarded and uncool, and to hell with you honey “The Big Lebowski is a GREAT movie and therefore bowling is actually pretty cool, unless it is really dorky and yeah it’s really dorky.

Chew on that sentence MS Word Grammar Checker!  It’s such a train wreck, I’m proud of it actually.

Not quite the purple jesus

Not quite the purple jesus

Anyway our office team sucked.   We sucked so bad we didn’t even have a name; our name was literally, “Team 8.”  We came in eighth out of eight teams so maybe the name was fitting but really we didn’t give enough of a crap about bowling to even give ourselves a proper name.   I suggested, “Lebowski’s little league” but retracted the idea when it was suggested we only drink white Russians while ‘rolling’.

No can do teammates.  Beer or death.

Team eight it remained.  Our team’s level of ‘notgiveashitery’ was epic, and I’m oddly proud of that.  Of the ten or so games we were scheduled to play, I think we made four.  Because well its summer, I have to go on a business trip, my ass hurts, something good is on TV and it’s on a fucking Tuesday night for Christ sake.

But even though we suffered from toxic-levels of ‘notgiveashitery’ we faithfully paid our dues, because even though we couldn’t be bothered to actually, you know, SHOW UP we all felt it was important to give the league money.  I’m proud of us for that.   As a team we gave two-shits by the end of it about showing up but god we’re paying our dues!

So yesterday the league captain or league general or league ‘his-royal-majesty’, whatever the hell he’s called, phoned me.   The league was over, they wished we had participated more, maybe we could come back this fall when things have slowed down and most of ‘Team Eight’ isn’t scattered across the planet and try again.  And, by the way, I have an envelope of money for all of you, it’s not much, about $130 and when can you pick it up.

Through a set of circumstances that sum up with I had tomorrow off and bowling league king/high-priest/his honor never ever left the bowling alley we agreed that I would meet him at the alley at 2 p.m.

Fast forward to 2 p.m. today and a few apologies, my guys travel a lot for work, I travel a lot for work, yeah maybe next time, the fact that it was a Tuesday was troublesome we’ll try again, just give me the envelope asshole, thanks for your time, better luck next time, you’re team couldn’t even pick a name for fuck’s sake and I had an envelope with $130 and like 70 cents in it.

Now again I was not working today, except for a quick trip into the office to handle a few items earlier, I was done for the day.   Going home and drinking beer while watching day-time TV has about as much appeal to me as bowling does so … but wait, this bowling alley, like many overseas on military bases, it has a slot-machine room.

I had exactly three U.S. dollars in my pocket (I know because I was buying a beer when this idea came to me) and an unopened envelope with $130 that belonged to my team mates.

“Yeah, I’m going to gamble my team mate’s winning away,” I said to myself taking my first swig of pilsner.   “And when I lose it all, I’ll quote Hunter S. Thompson quotes to myself as I drive home,” cause nothing says fun like quoting HST to yourself when you drive home after losing $130 on  slots, the sucker bet of any bet if there ever was one.

When I hit the winning series a live band started playing and like four hot topless chicks came out with balloons and okay nothing happened I just thought good was good enough. Actually I just thought, “this will be funny on my blog.” Cause I’m a dork like that.

I cashed out at $330 figuring an increase in profits of ‘math is hard’ was good enough.  That’s right Team eight, I took our ‘winnings’, well our ‘earnings’ well our “money the league gave us because we sucked” and made that $32.50 each of you had coming into $82.50, cause I’m a good dude.

If we ‘roll again’ we’re “Lebowski’s Little League” and I get a fucking exception to policy on the White Russian Rule.

I’ll totally wear the white bathrobe though.

Yeah, yeah the Olympics … yawn.

Kittens are cute, unless they're killing stuff ...

Kittens are cute, unless they’re killing stuff …

This is a Had A Few Beers Blog first.  This update is a confession, and its not going to be a popular one.  Most of you will exit out of this blog with haste, swear loudly for ever allowing yourself into being fooled into reading this in the first place.  

A few of you will vomit in revulsion.  Someone may in fact faint.

No. I don’t hate kittens (I love kittens).  I’ve never kicked a baby (I love babies) and I’ve never robbed an elderly person (more than once).

It’s just that …

The Olympics bore me.  

There I said it. 

Let the hate mail flow in. 

You see I was born without the sports gene.   I blame my Mom.   Dad’s side of the family has the sports gene, Mom’s side of the family clearly lacks it.

You see I’ll play your goddamn sport, I don’t care what it is I’ll go out on the field and utterly make an ass of myself trying hard and wrecking my body in the process but fuck if I care how professionals or Olympians (is there a difference) play it.   I’ll even enjoy playing (albiet poorly) it.  But I could care less about watching it.  

But I’ll play basketball with you and I’ll suck at it but I’ll try my best.  I’ll get creamed as in “OH SHIT THAT HURT,” by someone twice my size playing American football but I’ll at least get the ball a few yards closer to the goal before that happens.

But when it comes to watching any sport (pro or otherwise) on TV, here is my rating on a scale of one to ten of their importance to me.  Ten being more awesome than a topless beer drinking contest and one being equal to a math test.

College football:  1

Pro sports of any kind: -78

Army vs. Navy Football: 1.002

Army vs. Navy anything else: Who cares?

Baseball: My balls itch, I should Google why my balls itch.

Hockey: see next entry.

Boxing: Jesus, ouch!   Why the hell do they … okay 1.00000003.  No, no it’s like -1.0000001, screw that.

Golf:  I suck, and I had lessons too, GOD I really sucks -1,000,000!

Point is I don’t give a shit about most sports and surely don’t give a shit about the Olympics.   I don’t care if the Chinese swimmer snorted

What the hell do you mean the Chinese have six more medals than ... oh who gives a shit ...

What the hell do you mean the Chinese have six more medals than … oh who gives a shit …

performance enhancement drugs off the Olympic organizer’s penis, then looked into the camera and said “haha American I use ‘roids’ so f’ you”. 

I say load the bastards up on drugs.  We already KNOW what the limits of the human body can do and even if we don’t the difference is measured in like milliseconds.  

With dope these athletes will absolutely shatter the records.  The testing shouldn’t be a matter of ‘do they have performance enhancing drugs in their systems’ it should be do they have ‘enough performance enhancing drugs in their systems?’

Did competitor X from country Y just test positive for excessive amounts of feral-dog testicle extraction?  


This year's Olympic Games are sponsored by Anabolic steroids!

This year’s Olympic Games are sponsored by Anabolic steroids!

Great get them on the field and for the love of god let the fans know.

I’m also the guy that wrote to Lance Armstrong and recommended that he put a nitrous canister into his anus for added performance during the race’s final leg so I might just be outside the mainstream here.

My phone just buzzed and that’s means there’s an ‘important news update.’  This happened because I set my phone to only buzz when there are important updates.

Like you know when Madonna flashed her over 50-year-old ass at a concert in Rome ?   Those kinds of updates.   You know, important shit updates.

No the ‘news alert’ is about someone, and I assume it’s an American someone, won a gold in something at the Olympics.   You can be on a cereal box now, congradufuckinglations.

We are so doing this wrong.

Which leads me to the following statement;  fuck sports on TV all together.

Seriously fuck them, fuck the players, fuck the coaches and mostly fuck you, the fans.

What the fuck do they do?  Why did Joe Paterno have a fucking statue on campus in the first place?  Because he led a group of young men to better fight over a football than another group of young men? 

A football costs like what, twelve bucks, maybe twenty, I don’t know.  Maybe it’s a hundred bucks but for fuck’s sake please stop fighting over it assholes. You’re not heroes to anyone and the game is pointless.   It may be fun to watch, sure, but it’s fucking pointless.

Same with the Olympics, and oddly they piss me off more.  Let’s just play a thought game.   What if fucking Guam wins EVERY gold medal there is.  I don’t care what the contest, they win every gold medal there is in it.  

The day after the Olympics, Russia is still Russia, Germany is still Germany, China is still China and Guam is still Guam.  

I don’t get it, I never will.  

I see the appreciation for a talented sports figure, I do.  Anyone that has trained themselves to that level deserves a look; they deserve your ‘appreciation’ maybe but do they deserve the level of fame they achieve? 

Certainly they do not. 

The Roman’s got this crap right 2,000 years ago.   Gladiators, charioteers and actors were famous but they were the lower rung run of society and you wouldn’t be caught dead talking to one.  Okay maybe it shouldn’t be that bad but they’re not glowing examples of all that’s good in the world with the exception of Michael Phelps and the bong incident, which was hysterical and classic.

My boss reads this blog.   I know because he has had to ‘talk to me’ once, twice or every update about the content here. 

He love’s sports.

I don’t. 

One of the most interesting talks we’ve ever had (non-work related at least) is about the whole Penn state fiasco.   

Child molestation aside, and no you can’t ever put that aside, I’ll never understand why we elevate people who are basically either A: chasing something meaningless (the ball) or B: directing the chasing of something meaningless (the game result) to hero like status.

Why did we do that?  What beyond their ability to chase a ball around did they do to tell us they were good people?  Sure there are exceptions, but they prove the rule.  They chase a ball around a court for no purpose other than it pays well.  You followed the ‘ball’ well, why?  It paid a lot of money and/or fame and/or the attention it gets you that’s why.

The result makes no difference and my brain cannot swallow it.

You know an award I could get behind?  The award that thanks Guatemala, China, Japan, the U.S., Russia and that country we all hate, yeah that one, for putting a manned mission on Mars and returning them home safely.  That award means something.  

Not to you?   Fuck Mars you say?  I don’t agree but I can get behind your disagreement, let’s put it toward ending world hunger, disease, war or stopping me from ever blogging again.

Any of that is better than the amount of effort we spend on fencing, I don’t care what your nationality. 

Because seriously fencing, who the fuck fences?