Not the Best Omen

Yesterday our baseball team opened up the play-offs against some suburban school who is ranked WAAAAAY higher than we are, but that’s the case every year and we usually give a pretty good fight. For example, two years ago we were a 12 seed and we played St. Thomas Academy, the 5 seed. We scored 1 in the 3rd inning, and held on until the 6th when our pitcher beaned the lead-off batter and gave up 2 runs, and we lost 2-1. Four years ago we lost to Woodbury 1-0, when their 2nd basemen made the greatest infield catch in the history of suburban white kids, robbing us of two runs. Last year we played a city school, and choked away a 4 run lead in the 5th when a bird pooped on our Right Fielder’s left eyeball and he dropped a lazy fly-ball. Nobody actually saw the bird, or the poop, but I don’t know how else he could have mishandled such an easy, routine pop-up.

One year later, yesterday, we’re getting ready to leave for Southeast Suburbia to take on the 4th seeded Salacious Subdudes; the bus is loaded up and I’m about to get on it myself when I hear the Head Coach call my name from our outfield. I look over to see him walking with our 9th grade coach who appears to be holding his hand up, as if he’s getting ready to receive communion, with one hand.

Turns out, he’s holding up his left hand because in it is the tip of his left pinky. Somehow he managed to get it lopped off while he was closing the door on our storage shed. Apparently the panels pinched together and removed the entire nail portion of his digit.

Thanks to mass media coverage, we all know what to do when someone loses a portion of his or her leg/arm/foot AND hand: you get some ice and place the detached portion on, or in, said ice. Our slightly lighter coach then drove himself to the Emergency Room and we hopped on the bus.

Once we arrived to the ball park things got progressively worse and we were 10-runned in five innings. South Suburban High only had about 5-6, $400 bats which were apparently more powerful than our sixty-dollar, Sam’s Club Specials. They were also bigger and more athletic than us.

Oh, and our 9th grade coach? They reattached his pinky and they said that it has an 80% chance of taking. Apparently, these odds were a little better than our chance of winning the day’s game.

"I still carry, uhhhh..... a peNIS."

So I'm showing a Globetrekker video, the same series shown on PBS, to my Geography class and the host meets up with a couple of "Ladies" on the busy Istanbul strip. Immediately, it is apparent that these two gals are in fact NOT, and one of them, who goes by the name of Magnolia, explains that he/she has not had any surgery: “I was always a beautiful man, not a hansom one. I still carry, ummmmm a penis?”

I about fell out of my chair and the kids led the way with a chorus of: “ooooooooooh!” One boy, in particular who wasn’t aware of his/her gender, yelled out: “Awww SHIIIIT, Man, she’s a dude?!”

Naturally, the other boys started razzing him, indicting him on charges of loving Turkish transvestites. If only they had used these terms.

Gap Kids......SUCKS

Here's a nice a little video from our good friends at the onion. Enjoy.


Gap Unveils New 'For Kids By Kids' Clothing Line

Billly Who?

Well, well, well, it’s been a long frickin’ time since I last wrote and I do apologize. As many of you know, I am a baseball coach at the high school I work at and when the season gets going….I’m swamped. Did I mention that I also coach my kid’s little league team…..?

Speaking of baseball, this past Wednesday, after a rare victory by our ever underachieving squad, I got a call from the Head Coach of our team, who was headed to the Billy Joel concert, at the Xcel Energy Center. Turns out his wife was ill and he now had an extra ticket for the show. My instant thought was: “Billy fuckin’ Joel?.....no way.” But, you know, I used to like him…… ‘Glass Houses’ was a cool album (one which I still have in my basement,) I’ve always liked New York State of Mind… What the hell! And, a big plus…….FREE Ticket; this was the ultimate deciding factor as there was no way I was going to pay near $100 to see some old bald guy play a piano, while I sat with a bunch of middle aged rockers who think The Flaming Lips are some menopausal side-effect.

Firstly, let me tell you how much I love to see big-boned, 40-50 somethings, wearing short-skirted dresses. HOLY CRAP, did I laugh my ass off at seeing these fine, upper-Midwest, MILFs and GILFs. Luckily for me, the laughter staved off any bits of nausea which were sure to arise at the site of these hotties.

I must say that the opening of the show left me feeling very optimistic as they blasted out theme music from the film, “The Natural,” which I love. We got to our seats right after the crowd and band serenaded “Happy Birthday” to the evening’s star performer, B.J., who was now 58. To my right was my buddy, and to my left, was a lady with the aisle seat, who was, at minimum, 73 years old. She was rather short and round; pretty much tall as she was wide, complete with crusty, powdery facial make-up, and blue lipstick. THE NIGHT WAS LOOKING UP!!!

Mr. Joel plays a couple tunes and, as he did so, I knew that I was in for shitty time, UNLESS I started throwing back some watered down barley beverages. A great analogy for this type of evening is as follows:

Remember back in college when you’d go to some house party, early in the evening, and you didn’t know many people and the girls were rather ugly? Well, after about two hours, and 12 Old Mill lites, those fat zit faced honeys didn’t look so bad after all! Moreover, you became best friends with every dude who visited the keg, or took turns as the look-out man while you each had a turn pissing in some cobweb and vomit laden corner of the basement. Good times.

Well, so went the concert. The bald Jewish guy from Long Island kept pumping out his cheezy hits, and I pumped back about 8 Budweisers; and before I knew it, I had my left arm around the plump shoulders of the little old lady from some town near Roseau, Minnesota. And they say you forget everything that you learned in college. HA!