Send Vicodin, Please
Hey, gang! I’m sure a lot of you noticed that I wasn’t quite up to the task of writing yesterday. But I have an excellent reason! I’ve been trying out for my hometown Buffalo Bills for the past couple weeks. I know what you’re saying. “Jack, didn’t you once make three interceptions in one game against St. Mary’s of Lancaster your Junior year of high school? Why should you even have to try out? They should just put you on the first defense on the basis of that game alone!”
Look, I agree with you. I was great that day. More than a man, in fact. A superman even, but with the added attributes of some sort of ferocious animal. Perhaps the jaguar. I digress. The point is, I have been trying out for the Bills. NFL teams don’t normally hold open try outs(unless there’s a chance that it might somehow provide the incomparable Mark Wahlberg another vehicle in which to show off how awesome he looks with 1970’s hair!), but the Bills made an exception this year because they are horrible. Good God, I can’t remember another season I was looking forward to less than the current one. If they win more than 6 games I’ll throw a freaking party complete with helmet-shaped cake. Wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.
Back to the try outs. I showed up last week at Bills training camp. I couldn’t find my old football shoulder pads, so I went to Play-It-Again Sports and bought a pair of hockey shoulder pads. Same thing, right? Wrong! Oh, how I was teased when I got out onto that field! Not just by the players, but by the coaches, too. The coaches asked me what position I was trying out for and I said I would play any position that would help the Bills. The coaches said they needed me to pick a position so they could decide on how to evaluate me. I told them I would like to play quarterback, but only if I could use a slightly smaller ball because, as I’ve mentioned before, my hands are sort of dainty and I find the regular ones difficult to grip.
The coaches let me take a few snaps at quarterback, but not with the special Sugar Bowl Commemorative novelty ball I had brought from home. I had to use the regular ball. Well, needless to say, when I went to throw it the giant ball wobbled out of my hands and it actually went backward! The press sure had a good laugh at that one. I tried to laugh it off like I didn’t care and jogged over to where the ball had landed. But just as I went to pick the ball up, I noticed there was a bee on it. I screeched loudly and kicked the ball before running away, just like my mom taught me to do when encountering a bee. Well, if you thought people were laughing before, you should have seen them now. I told them all to shut up, but they just kept laughing. A 12 year-old girl in the stands even called me a name I don’t feel comfortable repeating.(It was ‘pussy.’)
After the laughing died down, the coaches suggested I just head home and I reluctantly agreed. But just as I was heading to the locker room to pick up my stuff, I thought I heard a bee behind me and I took off running. Unfortunately, I ran straight into a golf cart and banged my shin up pretty bad. So that’s why I wasn’t able to write yesterday. Go Bills.
