I hate the sports lull. For those of you who don’t know, the sports lull is the period of time between the Super Bowl and March Madness when there just ain’t much happening in the world of sports. Last year was the worst. We didn’t even have mid-season hockey to help us through the lull. This year, we get the winter Olympics, some international baseball competition that I still haven’t wrapped my brain around, hockey (sort of—the coverage is very weak this year) and the usual dosage of mid-season basketball. But for those of us who really can’t appreciate basketball or hockey until they reach the playoffs, and who think the winter Olympics are a sham because their officials once took away gold medals from snowboarders for testing positive for marijuana (I mean come on! They’re snowboarders. It’s what they do. In fact, I think it’s in the bylaws), the lull just doesn’t leave much to do.
Which means it doesn’t leave me a whole helluva lot to write about.
You see, unlike other writers, I don’t really have much of an imagination. I’m what they call a “found writer”, which means that they found I could write and couldn’t figure out how a dumbass like me learned to read, let alone form sentences. (Okay, so that’s not true. It actually means that I’m the kind of writer who finds stories in life and then writes of life. And you thought I was just bullshitting here or something). So when you factor in the sports lull with my developing television addiction, well, that doesn’t leave me with much to write about.
So I’m gonna tell you a little story about my friend, Kevin.
One day, Kevin decided that whenever anyone said anything to him, he would respond with the words, “That’s what you say, buddy.”
The guy at McDonalds would ask him if he wanted fries. And he’d say, “That’s what you say, buddy.”
The guy at the 7-11 would tell him that his cigarettes were four bucks. And he’d say, “That’s what you say, buddy.” And he’d point because this person could see him.
I would tell him that he was just basically being annoying. And he’d say- (actually I think you get it by now).
Basically, he said it to everyone for five straight hours before his brother got annoyed and tackled him, leading to a twenty minute fight, some broken furniture and the following conversation.
Chip: You’re getting slow, little brother. I almost had you that time.
Kevin: That’s what you say buddy.
Chip: Oh you are fucking dead.
Which, naturally, led to a ten minute fight and a broken nose.
The moral here: I need to get out more.