Touchdown!
The entrance of the building is covered with people and the circular driveway is littered with skateboarders, rollerbladers and the occasional person whipping around a Frisbee.
As I trek down the stairs and onto the sidewalk, my walk begins to develop into a slow jog, since I am meeting up with someone at UCC about a speech I’m helping to write.
DW is throwing a pigskin to one of two guys, placed in a triangle pattern around the driveway and I give him a nod which says, Hey, as I pass by him.
By the time I get to the street, I hear, “Hey, Steve, catch!”
Not knowing exactly what I heard, I turn around slowly and before I am able to react, I see a something brown coming towards my head. BAM! The football whacks me on my forehead and I fly backwards a few feet - both arms and one leg in the air - and land ass first on the ground.
Wanting to say something angry and insulting to the doofus who threw a football at me (or even to me), I formulize a pithy insult in my head, but it never materializes.
“Ow,” I say as I rub my forehead.
“Sorry, dude. Did that hurt?” I hear him ask as he runs towards me.
Since I am still on the ground, I look up at him and give him the evil eye. “Why did you throw that at me?”
“I thought you'd catch it.”
“What ever gave you the impression that I could catch it? Or would catch it?” I should’ve also added that I don’t play hardly any sports. “I don’t do football.”
“Sorry, dude. You ok?”
“Yes, yes, I’m ok,” I say as I wave him away from me, while rubbing my tender nether regions. “I have to get going…” I mumble as I walk away.
I don’t care for football. Throwing around a ball around, trying to get it from one white line to another, while teammates pummel into each other - I can’t understand the fascination that so many people have for the game.
And, this bump on the head isn’t going to help me love it even more.
As I trek down the stairs and onto the sidewalk, my walk begins to develop into a slow jog, since I am meeting up with someone at UCC about a speech I’m helping to write.
DW is throwing a pigskin to one of two guys, placed in a triangle pattern around the driveway and I give him a nod which says, Hey, as I pass by him.
By the time I get to the street, I hear, “Hey, Steve, catch!”
Not knowing exactly what I heard, I turn around slowly and before I am able to react, I see a something brown coming towards my head. BAM! The football whacks me on my forehead and I fly backwards a few feet - both arms and one leg in the air - and land ass first on the ground.
Wanting to say something angry and insulting to the doofus who threw a football at me (or even to me), I formulize a pithy insult in my head, but it never materializes.
“Ow,” I say as I rub my forehead.
“Sorry, dude. Did that hurt?” I hear him ask as he runs towards me.
Since I am still on the ground, I look up at him and give him the evil eye. “Why did you throw that at me?”
“I thought you'd catch it.”
“What ever gave you the impression that I could catch it? Or would catch it?” I should’ve also added that I don’t play hardly any sports. “I don’t do football.”
“Sorry, dude. You ok?”
“Yes, yes, I’m ok,” I say as I wave him away from me, while rubbing my tender nether regions. “I have to get going…” I mumble as I walk away.
I don’t care for football. Throwing around a ball around, trying to get it from one white line to another, while teammates pummel into each other - I can’t understand the fascination that so many people have for the game.
And, this bump on the head isn’t going to help me love it even more.
4 Comments:
Ahhh, a man after my own heart. A non-football-playing man ...
Hope someone was there to kiss the bump on your forehead.
Oh how I loathe football, let me count the ways. Ugga Bugga.
God at least was he cute. Was he willing to "feel" your pain? Did he want to kiss it and make it feel better. WTF I have a feeling you're leaving the sweatsock stuffed in his mouth while you rode him like a merman on a porpoise out.
kb
You should have given him the blow jab where it would hurt the most...the balls. ;)
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