“Lockout? No way! It’s never going to happen…” Then someone slaps me awake. Back to the Is of is-es. Like you, my sports future has taken a turn. Curse the man who coined the phrase “the path of least resistance”! He had no idea that he was an enabler. It is now the fountainhead for the greedy, for it allows a third alternative when it comes to, what is loosely called “Collective Bargaining”… When in doubt… Lockout. It’s the perfect excuse for discussion to end and to pick up their toys, exchange sneers and go home.
So what the heck happened? Well who the bloody well cares! My finely tuned schedule, my inner clock so refined through the eons, has been kicked out of its cup holder. I think I’m actually close to using the word “asunder” - which is never a good thing, because that would mean I have given up… Oh the agony! They strike at my heart! I bleed, I bleed… Ok, maybe not bleed, but I am suddenly aware of sharp objects, so what does that tell you? I have the overwhelming urge to run with a pair of scissors in my hand and to climb stairs without tying my shoelaces. I haven’t washed the windshield of my car in a week in an effort to drive “Orwellian”, for this is my “Animal Farm”…
I have to snap out of this somehow and it is quite possible I’m not alone in this grid iron purgatory? What to do? Well I’ve come up with a couple things:
Fishing: Sunday will be Fishing Day. Just remember to leave the custom cooler with the flat screen TV under the lid and pop-up satellite dish at home. Watching the World Gurning Championship or Extreme Ironing will only hide your pain (though Gurning is pretty funny, but I digress).
Man Cave Building: Are you a “Glass is half full, the sun will come out tomorrow kind of guy? Well even if you’re not, every man should have a Man Cave. You must not deny the urge to build one of these monuments to man-dom. (Ok, the word man-dom is funny and not just a bit ironic when it comes to sports, but Damnit I never denied my Neanderthal roots or occasional speak patterns. But notice I used an “O” instead of a “U” when I spelled it…) A man cave, for me anyway, must have tools. It’s the male equivalent to Feng shui (pronounced Fung – Shway). Power tools and shinny wrenchs, pool tables, bins of foam hands… (Just typing that… I can feel my “id” suffusing with testosterone giving light and wisdom!)
It’s time to overcome ye noble knights of the lounge chair. Apox I say to that split screen button on the remote control. Say to that 50” LED flatscreen with stadium pulsing surround sound… (excuse for a second, I had to wipe a few man tears away) Yes, say to all that makes you football’s bitch:
Am I weak or what?