Saucy had an exhibition football game to attend Saturday (April Fool's Day of all days). Now I haven't played in over a year due to sitting out last season. This year, I have been tasked to play right guard next to Chara. We've had some good practices and went to play this game with...ooohhh....21 players. Don't worry, two of them showed up at halftime.
I'm psyched to play, nervous since Monday. I've read my playbook and have eaten well before our Saturday night brawl. Pasta is a favorite on Friday nights for me, especially before a game. So I ate some damn good food at Carrabas. Damn good.
Anyway, our game is going fairly well. We are up against a team known to play a hard and have probably 35 or so players. Their linemen are pretty huge, like are two of me. I lined up and moved them though. Or at least prevented them from eating my arm...they looked hungry. It's pretty hot outside but I've hydrated (wohoooooo).
Half-time comes and it's a scoreless ballgame. We have moved the ball down the field but haven't converted. They haven't even gotten close to a touchdown. Our defense was awesome. Oh yeah, I also went in and played a couple of defensive plays cause I was needed.
After the half, we were doing well. I was put in as defensive tackle. In comes the other teams big girls. Our team knows what's coming as we've seen this play before. We call a special play designed for this particular set. I get on my knees and get ready. Their big girl, number 66 (whom I've been up against on offense all night) lines up across from me. She's probably 5'10 and 250lbs. So big girl gets down and I get lower. The ball is snapped.
Slow motion......
I remember her and another fatso coming my way; I see the ball carier...I go to reach for her then SNAP, CRACKLE, POP goes my knee. Immediately after is POP POP POP for my ankle. I start screaming like the little girl I am.I yell for them to get off of me and I roll over on my side, tears a flowin'. Quasimodo and her merry men had lifted me up and shoved me backwards (almost like a backbend) and landed on me causing my knee and ankle to carry their massive, massive weight. I hear "Trainer!! Trainer!!" as the other team's trainer comes over. Some teammates gather around and help me.
I get to the sideline after being clapped off (I wondered if the girl got the first down). The trainer (who I thought was just as knowledgeable about knees as...say...The Hamburglar) poked and prodded around to see where I was hurting. My knee didn't hurt so bad but my ankle was jacked. I've had jacked ankles before and I know jacked when I feel jacked. This was jacked. My knee couldn't be straightened. The Hamburglar diagnosed me as having a high ankle sprain and possibly a sprained knee. Thanks Hamburlgar...now go find Grimace.
I sit and watch my team do well, preventing the other team from scoring. I have ice on my ankle and I'm freezing...damn mountain climate! Finally the game ends and it's scoreless. It's just an exhibition game...no need in potentially hurting others. I get carried off the field by my mates. They are so damn awesome. Then we go to Ruby Tuesday's where I ordered a horse with a side of blue cheese. I'm trying to keep my humor while being "jacked".
So today, I decide to go to work. Mind you, it was my driving leg that got messed up. I get to my work, where there are only three of us now, and we have decided SOMEONE needs to go out and buy supplies. I volunteer . Yeah, send the crutches-lady out to drive around and get supplies. So I went. Being stubborn, I only hobble in to the first two establishments. Then I went in the third one...Wal-Mart.
If anyone has ever seen a Wal-Mart parking lot, it's easy to spot the handicapped parking areas. There's probably, um, 40 or so of these damn spots. Seriously, do 40 handicapped people go to Wal-Mart at the same time? I guess it could happen...on Sunday, after church. So I grab my borrwed crutches and head in.
I'm inside and I'm looking around for one of those Rascal/buggy things. Nowhere to be found. Ok, I'll just brace it and crutch myself back to the paints. Then I see it. Some big ass fat woman is riding around in one of the provided scooters. I wanted to tackle her but realized I didn't have my mouthpiece in. I worked hard for this smile. Anyway, I was pissed to see a perfectly capable person taking a ride in my much needed vehicle. I shot stares at her, finding her wherever she scooted. If she was in crafts, I was there...staring. I hope she felt bad. She could at least put me in her buggy. I wanted to shit on her coat, but she wasn't wearing one. Damn fat lady!
I've got a Dr.'s appointment tomorrow with the team knee doctor. I don't mean it as he comes to our games and helps as a trainer....I mean he's who everyone on the team has gone to for their knee. We keep him truckin'.
__________________________
Saucy Braves Tornadoes
Last Thursday, we were all warned of the potential horrendous tornado weather that would come on Friday afternoon. The newsguys are that good...or so they like to let you know. They have their own radar system with big names like "ARMOR" or "THE FLYING ELBOW" or something big and bad. The weathermen then like to "inform" the public about different wind velocities, wind shear, echos and other mumbojumbo that I could care less about. If I wanted to know about weather terminology, I would have taken meterology in school instead of thermodynamics. I hate learning when I'm not supposed to be.
Regardless, Friday was a frenzy. Schools let out at lunchtime and places closed early...only for potential bad weather. This is hilarious to me. Weathermen dictate the opening and closing of schools, at least down here.
The wind picked up but the clouds weren't too dark by 2pm. I still went home early to my vinyl-sided apartment. I tuned in to the weather, flipping back and forth between the three newsgroups, deciding when I should take cover in my bathroom.
By 6:30 pm, the weather was bad in my mom's town. Hail came down on the guy reporting outside and he was complaining about how it hurt. No shit?? How would you feel if something the size of a golf ball travelling from, oh 500 ft, landed on your head? Dipshit.
Meanwhile, I'm watching the news, laughing at the guy getting pelted but concerned about my mother's mustang convertible. Thank goodness it wasn't hurt. The storm picks up....
Around 10:30pm, the storms finally come to my town. It's about time. I'm getting my stuff together in my big bathroom. My little tv, pillows, football helmet, phone, medicines, cat, and cat litter. I'll be damned if the cat is going to use the bathroom anywhere else but in her litter box. I can picture people pulling me out of the rubble and wondering why I have cat poop on me.
The weatherman says the tornado is going over the airport (2 miles from me) so of course I donned my football helmet and slid under my bathroom counter. My football pads would not fit on me so I threw them aside. My cat, being all-knowing, climbed into the cabinet and hid. I realized she didn't have on a helmet and damned myself for not getting one for her.
I hear the hail landing outside and hope that my car was ok. I then remembered I had just changed my car insurance hail deductible to more than double what it was last week. I am now mad at myself and I slapped myself up the head...with my helmet on. Tornadoes make you crazy.
The funnel clouds finally pass over and I crawl out from under my cabinet. I lay there, on the floor of my bathroom, and fall asleep. And no, my helmet was NOT on.
____________________________________________________
As I hobbled crutch-free into the store to pay for my gas yeterday, the lady behind the counter asked if I had a broken leg. I just looked at her. Why yes, I do have a broken leg that I am walking on. Tornadoes make everyone crazy
______________________________________________
Saucy and the Motley Crue
When I heard Motley Crue was coming to my town, I was joyful at the presence of Mr. Tommy Lee and his "mini-me". I hadn't purchased a ticket but one became available and again, as I do.I ventured.
I enjoy concerts. The first one I went to was New Kids on the Block. Yeah, I had planned to sneak back stage when I was 13 to make out with Donnie. I sure didn't plan on doing anything else with him cause making out was HUGE! Now I realize I could have changed my life had I made it back there with my fake backstage pass I picked up at my local Claire's boutique. DAMN YOU BODY GUARDS! Hey, I got past two of them. More than likely had I flashed some *ahem* meat, I probably could have at least met the guitar player. Who's the guitar player you ask? Hell if I know!
The concert hall is slowly letting everyone in after being searched. Mullets and skip-skap-scallawags fill the area around me. One girl's skirt is so short, when she walks you can see her butt cleavage. She looks to be around 16 or so. What does she know about the Crue??
After some mulleteer tries to talk to me about losing his ticket and finding it (while donning a faded Pink Floyd t-shirt and a frizzy mullet), I finally get in. Headed to my seat with co-concert goer, we passed a sea of motley-looking people.a crue if you will. You have the dad and son (both wearing their newly acquired concert t-shirts), the low-end strippers with their barely there blouses, slow-slung jeans and glitter, the groupies who used to be strippers back in 1987 who still donne their tall hair and clown makeup, the newbies who were just born 14 years ago, the metal heads who are wearing their Slipknot t-shirt and eye-makeup, and the regular people who just look regular.
We get to our seat and continue crowd watching. This is my favorite: people watching! There's the drunk guy at the very back top row going "wooooooooooooooooo" endlessly before the concert even started. The can't-tell-if-she's-pregnant older lady who's evidently been "rode hard" if you catch my drift. She comes back into play later on in the story. Then there's a group of scallywag skanks that walk in next to us. One is evidently a crack-whore as she is small-framed, but too muscular. Her 17 year- old friend is wearing a barely there white top and some low jeans that she pulls up every 30 seconds because, like me, she lacks an ass. Throughout the entire concert, she danced and pulled up, danced and pulled up. It became more entertaining than some of the band.
The Crue came on stage and noise ensued. The distortion is huge in this arena but we make out some songs. You kinda felt bad for Mick Mars. Since I am an expert after watching VH1's behind the music, I knew he was in pain.
The show turned out alright. Toward the end, the "boob cam" came out. They took a hand-held and showed everyone in the crowd. They wanted to see some meat. Enter "rode hard". Somehow she made it to the front and flashed her pancakes. Gross. Then some other graceful ladies flashed theirs. It was all a blur as boobs were galore. Yes, galore.
After the show, we sat and watched the crowd disperse. The Kool-Aid bunch was easily noticeable. At the end of the show, Tommy Lee and Nikki Sixx threw buckets of the sweet stuff into the crowd. Haha, that's what you get for not being where us cool kids were, in the box seats.
No comments:
Post a Comment