Thursday, October 30, 2008

suffering suckatude

Day 63 of 365 in the “Marathon of the Dope” . . .


was I Mr. Yules le Sass Lamebutt extra ordinaire last night at tennis, or what?

5 games won - 22 games lost.

But, but why, you ask?

Explanation: I plain SUCKed.

Or, you can read below the “Official” excuses list.

1) My hand, which has been bothering me for about two months, was really acting badly last night. It took a full 45 minutes before I could hit the ball without the “ouch” factor.

2) The heat was broken in the bubble and the air temperature was a balmy 50 degrees F. F here stands for frigid.

3) I had to play with my extra large hoodie on. Nothing like getting your thumb caught in the front pouch on that backhand volley after your serve, or having the hood part slapping into the side of your head every time you sprint around the court.

4) My vision was blurry. Not, having a stroke blurry, but everything beyond the net had this fuzzy low res video card quality that had me not seeing the ball well at all. I did spend way too much time at work staring at spreadsheets yesterday and I’m sure that did not help. I may have to resort to wearing my contacts again so I can at least see myself missing the balls.

5) I was drugged. I found out afterwards that our supper was laced with the evil MSG. You know what you get when you mix Ibuprofen with MSG. You get dizzy and have a distinct lack of balance, and for those out there that don’t know, tennis is about 80% balance and 20 percent skill.

6) The state of my job has been in flux for months and would appear to be getting even fluxier in the days ahead. This seemingly unending uncertainty has been weighing on my mind of late. I wish the Corp would just make some damn decisions, let us know, and move on with it already. And reading Google news about the situation does not help. Gawd how the Media today Sucks, even worse than my tennis last night.

7) I was the oldest player on our court . . . Okay, this one doesn’t count - scrap it. But I was.

Or you can just say I plain sucked without any excuses and you would be correct.

However, despite all these factors, I only lost my Borg-like cool once pounding a ball across the net after the point was over. Not bad for such a level of suckatude seldom seen in my game.

And if you think that was bad, our head coach (obviously pissed off about the furnace being broken) smashed his racket into the court and threw the remains against the revolving door which leads into the bubble. He quickly exited the dome and came back with another racket trying to regain his cool.

Yeah, and he is usually the most laid-back, fun-loving tennis player you will ever meet - so it wasn’t only me last night having problems.

But, despite all of that, I’m going back in there next week (exiled back to court 4) and opening a can of Whoop Arse.

Until tomorrow . . .

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