Outside The Box – A (sometimes) humorous look at all things Burgundy and Beyond.
This is a true story. Most of it anyway.
So I’m talkin’ with my neighbor the other day. His wife is out delivering her kids one place or another, which she can do almost as fast as she delivered them into the world. And there’s no doubt about that. Her “bus”, as she calls it (no, I don’t live near Sarah Palin – thank the soccer gods) has a “Baby On Board” sign melted onto a side window, and she’s meticulously decorated the back with those cute little silhouette things – one for each of her seven offspring. These figures depict each of their boys playing football. That includes their youngest, Joey, who just learned to crawl. There are also two figures of girls. I think they’re jumping rope. I’m pretty sure they represent their daughters.
By the way, I never understood that “Baby On Board” thing. Are we supposed to take greater care around these people than we would, say, any other human? Are we supposed to slam into her bus at a higher rate of speed so we can earn more points? And what happens if somebody takes the points thing seriously and wastes some of the kids in the process? Does mom scrape their caricatures off the window? I just don’t get it.
But I digress.
So I ask him, “Roger, how come none of those little stickers show any of your kids playing soccer?”
Small talk, but he knows I’m baiting.
“Because soccer is for pussies”, he says.
“Yeah?” I inquire.
“Yeah” he says. “Those guys just run around kicking a ball. Anybody can do that. And they don’t have to be tough, and they fake it when somebody trips them and stuff like that. Neways, real men play real football.”
Gooooooooal !!!
“I think you know that I’m a Rapid’s fan”
“What’s a ‘Rapid’”, he asks
Roger’s a funny guy.
I play into his charade. “Colorado’s professional soccer team. You know, the only team that wasn’t embarrassed last year. The guys who won the championship while every team in the NFL used your beloved Broncos as tackling dummies”
“Oh! Yeah!” he replies. “I know who they are. Somebody put two free tickets and a $20 bill on my windshield when I was at the grocery store last week”
Like I said, Roger’s a funny guy.
I continued. “And you’re aware that my son plays soccer.”
“What’s your point?” he asks, with a half-hidden grin.
You know what comes next.
I kicked the shit out of him.
Okay, I didn’t. My “better man” philosophy is that reasonable and intelligent adults should talk these things out. But Roger is neither reasonable nor intelligent, and he hardly qualifies as an adult. Besides, he doesn’t even know how to spell “philosophy”. Plus, he’s bigger. He’d beat me silly and accuse me of being a soccer pussy.
He continues, “Let me help you with this, Jim. Pay attention” (Roger can also be condescending) “Here’s the progression: Real athletes play foo-baw. Those who get cut from foo-baw, play basketball. Those who get cut from basketball, play baseball. Those who get cut from baseball, play lacrosse. Those who get cut from lacrosse, play soccer. Those who get cut from soccer, well, they join the band or do cheerleading or something.”
“I’m shocked” I said. “I thought baseball came before basketball”
He didn’t think that was funny. Seems he’s selective about his sarcasm.
I try again. “And Jeez, Roger, soccer isn’t at the very bottom of your list. I suggest you reconsider that. I mean, tootin’ those horns can be plenty tiresome, and those band guys have to actually march up and down the field and everything.”
I thought that was kind of funny too but the sarcasm was, again, wasted on him. He stared at me, wondering if I was serious.
I then reminded Roger of the facts: How soccer players run circles around football players, are in better shape, better at teamwork, and (contrary to his perception) that soccer players suffer as many serious injuries as football players. I then reminded him that there are no time-outs, water breaks or TV spots, and that pretty much the entire world loves soccer.
I also informed him that I, too, was once lost in American football but that I grew a brain and started paying attention and now I kinda get it. This implication, that soccer fans are more intelligent than the average couch bubba, seems to have eluded him.
I then added, “Besides, soccer players aren’t dufasses.”
To his credit, Roger actually picked up on that one – that I was saying that he and his sons are dufusses. They are. But it might have been a mistake to say it.
He laughed nervously then said something about how soccer players touch themselves at night.
Then he kicked the shit out of me. I think he did it to prove some point or another about how tough he is. I guess dufuss football fans consider fighting to be the best way to settle an argument when they can’t think of anything clever to say.
I haven’t talked with him since, but I did wish him a slow and painful death. A boating accident involving fire, perhaps.
I didn’t say that to his face, though. Does that make me a soccer pussy?
That’s it for now. Send comments etc: Click Here To Email OTB!
And remember … its fun to play Outside The Box!
Disclaimers: (1) OTB is intended for mature audiences. While this leaves only a handful from CVI and even fewer Pids, you folks are welcome to check in. If you’re not a member of either group … congratulations; You obviously have good judgment and better things to do. (2) OTB is frequently sarcastic, rarely accurate, always messed up and (although some consider it knee-slappin’ funny) it may offend on occasion, but it’s all in good fun so I’m pretty sure we can deal with it. (3) The remarks, rants, raves, opinions and other content of OTB are rarely shared (and are never approved of) by MLS, the Rapids’ front office or the founders of Class VI and Pid Army (in whose names we pray)
