It hadn't rained in Tucson for 50 days and 50 nights. The first time it did, my fucked up tennis friends "ran away" like they were being chased by a killer rabbit.
Believe it or not, I have a friend, who recently became "famous" for quitting. Well, at least "internet famous" (in Tucson only) when he quietly retired.
We often forget the impact we have on others. Here's a little reminder that came from The Boy (now age 29) through Facebook Messenger of what a shitty dad I am.
I tried to play volleyball, once. Nearly, got my nose broken (by the Bear) and almost got in a different fight. It was early in our relationship. Shortly after I ate the tamale husks to impress the Savages.
If you are going to have a team, it's going to need a nickname, a mascot and some fucked up cheers.
The Bear teaches 6th grade in a poor neighborhood. Every once in a while when the Phoenix Suns really suck, they pad the house by giving away tickets
This religious zest for drug purity in sports is bullshit at it's best.