27
Mar
11

My Love/Hate Relationship With Rec Sports

With Beer League Softball season upon, us I feel a reconnection with my love for playing recreational sports in the community. Not only can you meet a lot of cool people, have some pops with your crew, but also get  off your lazy ass and do something semi-productive. Now Beer League ball is the best because you can do it at varying levels of intoxication. Buzzed/blackout/hungover, it all just seems to work out. And in life there is no better feeling than knocking in a few runs, making a sweet defensive play, or in other sports score a goal. This, is why I love of the sports that I play.

With that being said, I hate plying the sports as an adult, which were greatly rewarding to me as an adolescent. Lets start with indoor soccer. You cannot compare the level of a workout soccer or basketball can give you to any sport out there period(Let it be known that I am an atrocious basketball player. I’ll stick to white people sports, thank you very much). The health benefits of the cardio soccer gives me is counteracted by the anxiety I get while I play. Every time I’m on the field there is the legit potential that I could end up in jail. Take this week for example. We are playing a team of off the boat foreigners(if you’re not from the area, this is a pretty common occurrence) They don’t speak a word of English the entire game. We get in a little scuffle. They must be able to understand English enough that, “Fuck you pussy” gets a rise out of them. I finally hear the little English they know when they retort with, “I’ll stab you in the parking lot.” They must have practiced that phrase. Their entire bench clears. Now I’m not worried in the slightest about my safety because these kids absolutely are pussies. However, I’ll be damned if I let a 17 year old jerk off boater get in my face, over a soccer game of all things, without having him swallow some of his chicklets. I walk away, clearly the better man. Listen, just because you can probably call in and get your cousin to work your shift at the gas station after the game, doesn’t mean I have time to sit in jail with your ugly ass. I gotta be at work at 8am.

Moving on to hockey. The ice arena is full of “likes to fight guy” If you’re not familiar, check this out.

Long story short, some chach uses his stick like its a pool cue and blasts my friend in the chest with the butt-end. We don’t wear shoulder pads because we’re raw, so this essentially dropped my boy like a sack of potatoes. It took every fiber of my being not to brutally assault all 135 lbs of cigarette smoke and cocaine residue this kid was packing. By the looks of him, he must have walked from the trailer park down the road, shoved some newspapers in his socks Mighty Ducks style, and laced up his 1993 CCM Tacks he got from Play It Again Sports. The kid obviously has nothing to lose. How can I justify showing up to work with a black eye after scrapping it out with this idiot? Just not in the cards.

Don’t get me wrong, I still love playing all sports. I just wish everyone was out there for some exercise, friendly competition, and an adult beverage or two like myself. You’re not goin’ to the big leagues, guy. Just relax.

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