Saturday, June 22, 2013

Sitting on My Ass Watching Sports

All this smart ass stuff is just a means to an end.  My true calling is to be a celebrated philanthropist.

My first humanitarian project will be to open Smart Ass Cripple’s Home for Wayward Girls (ages 18 and up). And after I’ve done that, I’ll start a charity with the mission of creating opportunities for young criplets to fully enjoy sports. I owe a lot to sports. Sports meant a great deal to me as a criplet. Sports did a lot to mold my character and shape me into the man I am today.

I didn’t actually play sports. I’m crippled, remember? There was a time when I could hit a whiffle ball a good 10 yards, but those days a long gone. I’m talking about sitting on my ass watching sports.  I want future generations of cripples to have the same, if not better, opportunity that I had to sit on their asses and watch sports.

I hated any sport where the spectators had to be quiet, like tennis. If I couldn’t yell and scream and act like an ass hole, then what was the point? The only people who can yell and scream and act like an ass hole at tennis matches are the tennis players. I hate golf for the same reason. You can’t heckle. I guess it’s because hitting a golf ball or tennis ball requires intense concentration. But big deal! Hitting a curveball is hard too. What if Albert Pujols refused to step into the batter’s box until there was complete silence?  Ha!

The joy of being a fan was in the heckling. Thus, sitting on my ass watching sports was the most constructive form of releasing tension and hostility available to me as a boy, especially since I was Catholic so I couldn’t jerk off. I wouldn’t be condemned to hell for watching sports. I was, however, a Cubs fan, which is pretty much the same as being condemned to hell.

But I got away with stuff as a fan that I never would get away with in real life. I expressed my bitterness at the success of those I didn’t like and gloated when they were defeated. I heckled those who didn’t please me.  Everybody needs a chance to vent their petty vindictiveness now and then and get it out of their system, especially adolescents.  Let’s not pretend we don’t.

Today, sitting on my ass watching sports is satisfying on an additional level because I also get to heckle millionaires. So I don’t want criplets to miss out. My foundation will organize field trips where we take criplets to games and teach them the fine art of heckling. The shy and sheltered ones will receive a list of standard insults like “You suck!” to which they can refer until they develop the social skills to craft their own insults.  

My greatest dream is take them to something like Wimbledon and watch the match come to a halt while security ejects a bunch of criplets. That would be such a deeply rewarding experience, for the little criplets and for me.