One More Word-Also Known as Don’t Mess With Me
It is another Monday night, a gym night. And as my normal custom I left the office and went to the gym to play a little pick-up basketball. Most of the usual guys were there. I like them, they are nice guys and most of them have responsibilities outside of the gym.
It means that they think twice before doing something stupid. Tonight’s affair reminded me of why I avoid playing with the younger boys. They are stupid. Young, dumb and full of cum as the drill seargent reminded me. Of course Sarge hasn’t had a company detail since LBJ was in office, or maybe Nixon.
That means that he is an older fellow. But he does have enough common sense to avoid danger.
I on the other hand am only 35 and haven’t accepted that I can’t do the same things I used to at 20. I am not as fast, I am not quite as thin and the dings and bruises stay with me a little bit longer. However, I am not some soft, crybaby who cannot take getting hit. Set a pick on me and I will go through it.
And as mentioned many times I will talk trash the entire game. It is fun to try and get into someone’s head. The smart guys ignore me or run the whole time leaving me a little winded.
This evening I got to play with a kid who was about 19 and claimed to be 25. He ought to enjoy being 19. 25 was a great age, but 19 was outstanding.
So my little friend kept mixing it up with me. He did the bang into Jack over and over to see if Jack breaks. It didn’t work.
He tried the wrestle for postion under the basket and see if Jack get’s worn out. I love that. It is a challenge that I take personally. Come into my home and you will be dealt with, and he was.
So the kid grows more and more frustrated. He is not big enough to muscle me. Not fast enough to use speed to get by me and not the wily veteran of a thousand campaigns. He hated that line, I wonder why. 😉
After a while his frustration reached the point of no control and I scored a bucket and then stole the ball from him. Before I knew it the lad was in my face, promising me death and destruction, all I needed to do was say one more word.
Jackie Mason used to have a great routine about one more word. He used to wonder what that “one word” was. What could push it over the edge. Can you guess what is coming. I am guilty.
I poked and prodded. I never used profanity, but I did cut him a little. You’d be amazed what happens when you suggest that a young lad cannot keep up with an old man does. He threatened me about another two times and then I promised him my own version of death and destruction.
And because I am a little more grown up then he, I walked away and suggested that they find someone else on their team to guard me. Well that was it, he came up with fire in his eyes and a desire to prove himself.
I saw it coming from a mile away and had him up against the wall, face first. It took all of thirty seconds to explain to him that it is a game and that I am not going to risk my family’s future on some little boy. Especially one who thinks that I am middle aged.
So, there is my rendition of stupid things that have happened recently. FWIW, I made him shake hands with me. It was important to me that he understand that I really was kidding, not to mention I wanted to make sure that I got a chance to try and figure out if he was the kind of boy to try acting stupid outside.
Ladies, aren’t you glad not to be burdened with all this testosterone. I suppose there is a reason why people say that my house has two little boys. There is my son, the 35-pound terror and his abba, 230 pounds of mischief.
P.S. I can’t lift as much as I used to but I did throw up a couple of reps on the bench press today. I can still lift my weight. Someone get me a beer.
Why do I have the feeling that I am going to look at this post and cringe. This has got to be as dumb as I have come up with in a while. But the rule is, be honest and be forthright about your posts. Put ’em up and try and learn something.