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September 10, 2013
The Editors Column
Well ladies and gents. Week 1 is in the books. Though I am not sure what books. I am pretty sure the people in charge of this rag-tag operation can't read, let alone write. It's all fucking chicken scratch. One monkey sitting at one typewriter could pound out a better Morning After in 5 minutes than the drivel we are fed every week. Anyway, so, after Week 1, what have we learned?
There are lots of new faces in the league. But there are more of the same, old, tired, same, same, same faces. And all of you veterans know each other, and have your old familiar routines. You talk to the people you know about a bunch of shit that no one cares about, like your fantasy team. Then you play drinking games and behave like hooligans. Take a moment to talk to a new person. Go out of your way to involve a new person. Especially if you think they're hot. They don't know what a depraved, desperate human being you are yet. Make the new people in the league feel welcome. You were a new person in the league once upon a time. Before you became the weary, hollow, spent husk that you are now.
At some point, on Sunday afternoon, you need to eat something. Maybe you ate breakfast Sunday morning. Though probably not since all of you spend your Saturday night drinking to forget and swapping venereal diseases with each other. So, of course, you are running late. You get to you game 30 second before it starts, wearing your shoes on the wrong feet and your shirt inside out. And THEN you go to a bar and drink for four hours. If you don't eat, guess what? You're gonna have a bad time. By 6 pm, you're going to be ass up on a park bench and if you're lucky, no one has pulled your underwear to the side. If you're walking bowlegged on Monday morning, it's because you didn't eat something.
Not only is kickball supposed to be fun, but it actually can be. There were close games on Sunday. There were blowouts. And I hardly saw or heard any contentiousness. In general, people seemed positive , encouraging and friendly. Exactly as it should (IMAGINE THAT!). It is kickball. Eight year old's play it, and often times with more decorum than we do. Are you great a kickball? Who gives a shit? Are you terrible at kickball? Who gives a shit? Are you pleasant, agreeable and fun? EVERYONE GIVES A SHIT. Not being an asshole is tremendously underrated. You aren't going to erase the memory of that time in high school when you had the chance to win the game and your pants fell down and you tripped and fell and you humiliated yourself and you had to move to another state and change your name BY winning a kickball game. Gatorade and Nike are not coming around the fields to check out your sweet skills and offer you a sponsorship deal so that they can put you in a commercial where they make you wear a snorkel on your head and run on a treadmill until you sweat unnatural colors. There are no scouts sitting in the bleacher with binoculars, and stop watches, cramming dip in to their face and talking about "five tool players" and whether or not you can hit an "Uncle Charlie." And if you're going to be one of those people that's going to ruin the generally feeling of comradeship that we've been able to experience thus far this season, don't worry about having yourself a sandwich on Sunday afternoons, because I have something you can eat.