Little kids suck when I play...

So I’ve spent most of this summer at my lake house with a bunch of kids who are considerably younger than me (4-14 years old). Over the past few weeks, I have logged some of the greatest sports performances of my life. Although I played against kids who were half my size and some as young as a quarter of my age, I still take these performances to heart.

For example, two weeks ago, during a tackle football game, my team “The Girl Haters” were down to “Team Women Suck” (I made both names) 28-35 in the closing seconds of the fourth quarter. The go ahead touchdown was questionable as I clearly was interfered with by the receiver, my 8-year-old cousin Timmy, but I couldn’t argue my way to get the touchdown reversed. I had him covered and he somehow tripped me without falling down himself – allowing him to easily catch the pass. So there my team was, sitting on the 35-yard line discussing our options. Oliver, our top receiver at 4 foot 5 inches and 95 pounds, said he could run a fade. We agreed that was our best option and went for it. When the ball was snapped, I read the defense immediately and saw that Oliver was going to be double covered. Just as the defensive lineman, my 7-year-old nephew Henry, began to charge into the backfield on his count of 5 mississippi, I used my patented stiff arm to send him head over heels into the ground. With the pocket collapsing around me, I scrambled. I used a power swim move on my 10-year-old cousin Jerry (he just got out of the hospital) and then saw my only obstacle standing in front of me – my little nephew Scotty (5 years old). He had a fire of hate in his eyes –standing on the one-yard line like a menacing roadblock. So I got down and dove into him with everything I had – knocking him and me into the end zone and tying the game. I celebrated by throwing the ball down and getting in the now tear covered face of Scotty and saying “Yea little man, that’s how we handle it in the big boy leagues.” In overtime, I returned a kickoff for 99 yards (A LAKE RECORD!) for the winning score. Also, the other team had 3 season ending injuries from the previous play, so it was pretty easy. I am awesome.

Another amazing moment came when I hit one of the first recorded inside the park homeruns in Elk Lake history. It was the bottom of the 9 with 2 outs and a man on third. We were down 16-17 in what had amounted to a show of incredible offensive power. I was having a hell of a day, going 6 for 8 with 3 HRs and 11 RBIs. Our pitching staff was our major issue as Bobby, a 10-year-old ace from the farm league, couldn’t keep his pitches under control. I swear he wanted to lose. He kept crying when I told him he sucked too – that didn’t help him see the strike zone any. So back to my at-bat – I took the first two pitches high and outside. I cut hard at the third, blasting it foul into deep right field. That is when my cousin’s friend (the opposing pitcher), Hugh (he was 12 or 7 or something), opted to keep everything high and away in hopes my contact would end in a quick pitchers paradise. What an idiot. The next pitch was a little high and slightly away, but I got a hold of it and railed it straight into center field. Henry, still recovering from my stiff arm the previous day, was having trouble seeing the ball (I didn’t allow him to wear his glasses, calling them performance enhancing eye wear). Well, long story short, Henry took the ball right to face. As I rounded second, I saw Timmy running rapidly toward the ball. I gunned for third and when I saw the signal, kept going for home. Hugh was there to cover the plate, but he failed to get a solid grasp on the ball. I put my shoulder down and jarred that kid so hard his sneakers, glove, glasses and hat all flew off him. The ball dropped harmlessly to the ground and again I gained an awesome victory. Score! Henry needs some special glasses now for his eyes and Hugh refuses to come to the lake anymore. If you can’t handle the heat – get out of my way little bitches.