By Spence Blazak
After our first blowout, the Wookiees decide to come back with a vengeance in typical Wookiee fashion: not having practice until the night before the game, only half the team shows up, and someone is under some kind of influence.
I grab my trusty notebook, my polar fleece, and my Baltimore Orioles pen before heading out to the bench to see who I've mustered up. I see Rips, and he looks on the verge of tears.
Me: "What happened?"
Rips: "AHHHHHHHHHH"
Me: "So……"
Rips: "I saw…..it"
Right as I'm about to respond "you saw what?" it hits me…..
Rips: "I went to go knock on TEAMMATE X's window to get them for practice. No response. I looked inside…..and he was as naked as the day he was born, sleeping on his bed."
Right on cue TEAMMATE X walks out and says "Hey-hey guys! Whats up!"
I can't look at him without imagining nakedness. There is no doubt in my mind that this will come between our friendship.
We start practice by throwing the ball around. Evan shows up with an oddly shaped bag from the Amersterdam Smoke Shop. That can only mean one thing…..
Evan: "A gas mask!"
GAME DAY
We gain two new players: Ryan and Joe. Since Goodhand has lab, I tell him I need a human sacrifice to take his place. So he provides me with his roommate Joe. He is a man of few words who has ice water in his veins. As for Ryan, he is the quarterback from another team on the Busch Campus League. Thats right, I've taken an even bigger card from Billy Beane's Moneyball playbook: I now steal players from other, better teams.
I put in Ryan at quarterback and tell him to throw me a lob that will make me dive. He does what I ask. I take five steps, slant in, then stumble as I jump for the ball….then I run into a Christmas tree. Everyone finds this hilarious. Now I can't walk.
As for the The Princess Leia Squad, Ali is nowhere to be found and we think Kelly is mad at us for something (girls, right?!?!?!) so we find two new recruits: Robin and Elise.
In the midst of our practicing, the tension has heated between Dalton and I. He is a Rays fan, while I'm a Red Sox fan. If one team loses tonight and the other wins, the winner makes the playoffs. I'm terrified. There is nothing more "Socky" than driving what started the season as a Championship team on paper into the ground on the last day of the season. I digress. Bottom line, if the Sox blow it, I'm being carried back to my dorm in a bucket.
With the addition of Reggie and Rommel (who just might be the best thing that ever happened to the blog), I tally up our players and we have a full roster AND SUBS! No one can believe their eyes. Before they get too excited, I bring them back to reality by telling them the name of our opponent: Domestic Violence. I feel like the theme song for Psycho is playing every time I say the name. No. I feel like THE GATES OF HELL ARE OPENING every time I say the name. Doomed. We are doomed.
We start seeing people we know on the way to the game bus, and we start marketing the game as the "Rosh Hoshanna Classic." Since Rips is our only Jewish individual on the team, we ask him what the holiday actually is. His response: "…….." Michael chimes in and says that he wished the Israeli girls on his floor a happy one, and they said it wasn't a happy day. He also knew a little about it from Entourage. Thats right. A show in syndication on the channel that used to be the KidsWB has taught Michael more about Judaism than Rips has learned as a lifetime Jew.
This is followed up by a bus wide debate on whether Evan is Jewish or not. While one might think that the debate would be ended once Evan said he "was not," that person clearly doesn't know the Wookiees.
Rips suggests expanding the team beyond just flag football. We debate having a frisbee, dodgeball, basketball, and quidditch team for our next endeavor. We then wonder if we should keep the name "The Wookiees" or rename ourselves another Star Wars joke. Our possible names: "The X-Wings", "The Tantans", "The Jawas", "Not the Droids You're Looking for", "The Sarlac Pit", "Jar Jar and the Binks." All we know is that whatever name we pick, the bar has been set with the team name from Cook/Douglass Co-Ed Leage: Its Not Easy Being White.
Note for basketball season: NEED. SNAP PANTS.
Boston is up by two runs and the Rays are down by seven. There is a God.
We roll up to the field and Rommel and Reggie greet us. Wait……..
Me: "WHERE'S BAYO!?!?"
Rommel: "He forgot to wear shoes that he liked, so he went back change."
I blame our impending loss on these shoes.
We look at our competition. They are all white boys, wearing backward hats that advertise for shirt companies, dressed in make shift sleeveless shirts, wearing stud earrings, as well as cleats. I try to be as nonjudgemental as possible.
Dom. Violence Goon #1: "Oh maaaaaan, I'm soooooo glad we wore cleats, wearing shoes is reaaaaaaally stupid." As he looks at our shoes and high fives his inbred teammate.
Me under my breath: "Oh! Wow! Looks like the Insane Clown Posse forgot to put their make up on today!"
First play of the game, we are on offense. Our quarterback is not only sacked via flag, but sacked via body. He goes to the ground. The Domestic Violence lineman straight up tackles him. The refs don't seem to care. I take matters into my own hands.
After going four and out, the other team gets the ball. They score immediately. They chest bump, high five, and yell "THATS WASSSUPPPP." At this point, I've turned into the Hulk. Me to Evan: "Aw, isn't that cute, they have the ability to form SENTENCES now! Maybe basic human decency will be next!"
We are on offense. I go to the Right Tackle position. Just like Big Mike in The Blind Side. A cleats kid gets around me. Whatever. Then he looks at me and raises his eyebrows. An invitation for confrontation. I block him and he goes down. I do it again. He didn't know that he was entering PAIN CITY when he stepped on this field!!!! Then we throw an interception….
I dive to pull off the kid's flag, miss, and wind up with a face full of mud. I yell to the heavens in discontent. Then take myself out for the next couple plays.
The opposing quarterback does a QB sneak and gets a first down. This results in….
Rommel:"WE CAN HAVE OUR Q RUSH?!?!?! We need to be running some Michael Vick up in this bitch!"
The Domestic Violence boys do something particularly absurd after their next play works, resulting in me leaning to the Princess Leia Squad and ask them, "Wow! I didn't know that you could major in Pre-Jail!"
HALF TIME
28-0. I can live with that. Doing better than last time. Always looking for improvement. I decide to sit out the open of the second half. First play, THE OTHER TEAM THROWS AN INTERCEPTION RIGHT TO REGGIE!!!!!!!! He takes it to the 20 yard line!!!! We grab a few yards on the first three downs, then on fourth down, when all looks lost…..MICHAEL DOES A QB SCRAMBLE AND GETS US OUR FIRST TOUCHDOWN!!!!! I FEEL LIKE THE KING OF THE WORLD. What? Something is wrong…..Michael…..isn't…..doing….a…..touchdown…..dance…..
Me: "DO THE PARTY ROCK SHUFFLE!"
No response.
I repeat myself.
Again, no response.
So I burst into a rigid version of the Party Rock Shuffle myself. All is right in the world.
The substitutes for Domestic Violence are on the sideline dropkicking each other….all while wearing cleats. I mutter: "2011 Darwin Awards are being given out early this year."
With two minutes left in the game, Bayo shows up. He has his shoes, but doesn't have his Student ID, making him ineligible to play.
Domestic Violence gets cocky and tries to run an option play. The quarterback is tackled just after he laterals back to the running back. The whistle blows. Regardless, the running back takes the ball down for a score. He wasn't down, but I immediately make a scene to win some time.
Me: "I HEARD A WHISTLE! I HEARD A WHISTLE! AND I DON'T THINK I'M DEAF! MICHAEL, DID YOU HEAR ANYTHING????"
Michael: "Spence, just stop…….yes I heard it."
Me: "YES!!!!!! HE HEARD IT, HE SAYS!"
We get the play called dead at that first tackle. They then throw a touchdown on the next play……
FINAL SCORE: DOMESTIC VIOLENCE-56 WOOKIEES-7
POST GAME
We walk back to the bus.
Dalton: "Hey! The Rays came back! The game is tied at 7-7!"
I contemplate taking off my clothes, lying in the field, and waiting until the greenskeepers find my frozen body in the spring.
Evan: "DId I ever tell you about Fuck the Pig? My ex had a pig, and she named him Fuck. I loved that pig….."
We miss the bus, but its no worry. There are worse things than waiting a little while for a bus…..then I realize the next bus doesn't come for another forty-five minutes. God is testing me.
We finally get back to the dorm, and as Bayo and I are walking in, he tells me about what going to the gym with Rommel is like…..
Bayo: "Rommel spends the entire time yelling at me for not having the dedication I need to get 'photoshopped' like he is. Yes. He actually said that. Then he said, 'I'm working hard to get that Goku body. I'm almost there. Right now, you are at Krillen level. Step up, Son.'" So many Dragonball Z references in such a short amount of time.
Rommel is incredible.
We get into the room, Bayo takes off his shoes, then I decide to go shower. When I come back, people are screaming about the smell. I already know it is probably coming from my room. I go to check it out and the smell is unbearable. I'm convinced a mold has started to grow in one of the desks. After an hour of cleaning, we realize the culprit……Bayo's favorite shoes are infected with mildew. He throws them away in a heartbreakingly tender moment.
Then I find out the Red Sox blew it and are missing the play offs.
We both hug.
Before I go to sleep, I text the team that I want to have a practice the next day. Rommel (who is obsessed with Jay-Z's song "N***** in Paris" so much that he has begun to call black people NIPs) is in a class called "African American Scientific Researchers." He texts back, "Sorry, man, I can't come. I have to study for my N***** in Science Exam."
Rommel wins the day.
No comments:
Post a Comment