"Electrify her with studded rubber nubs!"
-Condom machine, Poet + Patriot Irish Pub bathroom, Santa Cruz, CA.
"I will support your happy!
This happy is a secret for you and me."
-Japanese birthday card.
Today I'm going to play tennis for the first time in, I suppose, 10+ years. It's a boys vs. girls game. I predict a riot. I also predict that I get my ass beat.
When I was in middle school and early high school, I took tennis lessons at the YMCA and played a lot. I was quick, accurate, and I had a killer two-handed backhand. My serve sucked, but it slowly got better over the years. I enjoyed playing and I particularly enjoyed winning, which was sometimes a problem because I enjoyed winning in the frothing-at-the-mouth bloodthirsty-competitive way. Anyway, as the end of my freshman year approached, I started thinking about joining the tennis team; I was as good as several as the guys on the team and it just seemed logical. Then, a tiny flickering 40-watt lightbulb went off over my head and I realized that 90% of the guys on high school tennis teams are complete fucktards...it's like hanging out with the nasty refuse of an elite country club. Smarmy pricks, people, smarmy pricks.
So I dropped out of tennis and played in bands instead.
This happy is a secret for you and me. Prepare to be electrified by rubber nubs.
4.06.2007
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6 comments:
I like your post today. I like the secret... Tennis looks easier than it is which is why it makes me crazy. Stiff wrist. Follow through. I remember your worry about your competitive impulse. Boys vs. girls?
You have such a great turn of phrase. :) I've always loved tennis, even though I'm terrible at it. Badminton was better; the birdie moves much more slowly.
Oh, yes, BvsG. My friend Jeff and I vs. the terrifyingly-athletic Amanda and the only slightly-less-terrifyingly-athletic Kelly. We've got luck and hot dance moves on our side, they've got skill.
Badminton is awesome. So is croquet, obviously.
Hey now. I was a jock at the same time I was on the It's Academic team. I certainly was not a fucktard--at least not your typical one. I had few friends on my sports teams. Like my blog post said: I didn't fit in with the softball or tennis girls. The tennis girls didn't understand why I hated tennis skirts and the softball team sang Dancin' in the Street (sweatin' to the oldies) as my "theme" song because I wore a white braided headband.
Please note that I very deliberately avoided constructing the syllogism as follows:
1. All jocks are fucktards.
2. So-and-so was a jock.
3. So-and-so was (therefore) a fucktard.
Instead, it went like this:
1. Most guys on a men's high school tennis team are fucktards.
2. Fuck that shit.
3. For sure.
You always make good decisions, KFR. Band v. tennis team? I'm having a horrific vision of a counterfactual reality in which you wear white clothes all the time and have no tattoos. Scary.
Also, nasty refuse of an elite country club refuse? Excellent.
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