Friday, March 18, 2011

From The Desk of...MUDawg

The tits on the left are part of the story.  Think of them while you read this.
You’re stuck in a school bus and all you can smell is feces. It’s so profound you’re starting to get a headache. At the end of the bus ride, there is a football team ready to beat your ass. This is a love story.

Without hesitation, I will admit that Ohio’s coverage of High School sports is outstanding. In Atlanta, you’d get a 5 minute segment at the end of the night listing scores and maybe 30 seconds of highlights of the “Game of the Week.” In Ohio, (at least in Cincy) there are 15+ minutes dedicated to all the games – it’s been very impressive.

So why does this matter and why do you care? Because with so many highlights, I’ve quickly picked up on the region structure of the schools, how schools are segmented, what the big conferences/teams are and how the playoffs are broken down. This is in contrast to Georgia – where the leagues are set up mostly by county.

Where I went to high school, you’d play a 10 game regular season football schedule. 8 of those games would be from inside your county and 2 would rotate every year against teams from bordering counties (the schools would be of a similar size). Top two teams from each county advance to State.
This lead to some LONG bus rides if you had to play a team from another county that was simply far away.

My sophomore year, it was my turn to “dress” for a Varsity football game. Our coaching staff believed that allowing sophomores to dress made them aware of the serious nature of the varsity football and helped them approach the game seriously. We responded by trying to stuff multiple cups in our protective girdles to make our cocks look big and then wave to girls in the stands. Classic-backfire.

The coaches also insisted on a pre-game meal. The felt it helped the players to focus and concentrate on the issue at hand. This isn’t a joke; we weren’t allowed to leave after school had ended. We had to stick around, eat a meal sponsored by one of the boosters and then get dressed and travel together. Meals were almost always lasagna/salad or steak and potatoes…something simple but relatively healthy.

I’m chosen to dress before a big game against one of those cross-county teams. We have a legit 50 minute drive to the other school and the winner gets the #2 seed and a berth into the playoffs. It’s a very serious game. Pregame meal is eaten in silence, even by the sophomores who normally would dick around. The meal baked chicken, spaghetti and salad. We eat, pack our pads and then get on the bus.

About 25 minutes into the drive, a foul odor starts to hit the air. It’s sour but not overwhelming. Think day old milk left out in a hot room. 10 minutes later it’s worse. Another 10 minutes and the whole bus has their windows down. We’re laughing like crazy thinking someone is just dropping ass the whole way but the coaches are getting angry. The special teams coach (a spectacular redneck) screams for “all the horseplay to stop” and “this is for the playoffs, damnit!”

Eventually, we hear it. Like spilled cottage cheese hitting the supermarket floor, we hear the unmistakable sound of diarrhea hitting the floor of the bus.
One of the sophomores, too embarrassed to ask the driver to stop tried to hold his bowls the entire way after eating a bad piece of chicken has shit himself, explosively, on the bus, and we’re 15 minutes away from shower where he can clean himself.

The victim’s name is Alan. On the JV team all he played was special teams and a little bit of tight end. He was skinny and relatively polite. He rooted for Tennessee (where his mom was from) and the Philadelphia Eagles (where his dad called home). He was so painfully embarrassed he kept his head down and his face turned away from us. Nobody bothered laughing anymore. The exit from that smelly bus was less organized than Hurricane Katrina and I had my foot cleated twice trying to push through to the door.

The coaches eventually threw away Kevin’s game pants and pads. He stood on the sideline in sweats and a hoodie and tried to laugh about it after he cleaned himself up. Come Monday morning, the story was EVERYWHERE in our school. Like HIV in Uganda, the story was out of control and spreading faster by the minute.

Alan moved away for college, choosing to attend a school in the Mid-Atlantic and to pursue a an engineering degree. According to Facebook, he lives and works in North Texas and has a girlfriend with spectacular boobs (see attached picture I like to think that he told her about his poopstravaganza and she married him out of pity. If my time spent watching 45 second clips on has taught me anything, it’s that women with large breast will be very nice to you out of pity – so I’m probably right.

Any who, sorry for being so damn longwinded in my first post on G$’s blog. In closing, I’d like to predict that in three years time, Jared Sullinger will either be in jail or murdered in a knife fight. I hate you all.


Grumpy said...

Not as much as I hate you for telling that disgusting story before breakfast. Bolsters my contention we should have just let the South secede. Nothing but stupid fuckers once you cross the Ohio River.

MuDawgfan said...

Needs "I'm a great writer" tag if you ask me....

GMoney said...

I am content with my labeling!

Our own Naptown Wolverine took a forearm shiver to the chest during a lineman drill at a two-a-day and shit himself. His "football pants full of feces run of shame" was amazing.

Anonymous said...

That was pretty funny shit, I felt better after that shit.


Anonymous said...

That would be awful if you were that kid, even though, for the most part, it wasn't your fault. I would have at least seen if there were some puke bags or something, although I am sure it would have still been pretty messy.

-Lil' Strut

GMoney said...

I'm pretty sure that every bus in all of Naptown had shit smeared everywhere. They always stunk.

Tony B. said...

"he played a little tight end" - not tight enough apparently.

MUDawg- after I moved from Naptown, but before moving to CA, I lived in Fayetteville, GA- is that close to where you are from?

When I lived in Naptown, some old guy named Junior drove the bus from Buckeye Lane to West Is Best. He was pretty cool, but very old- hopefully he didn't have anything to do with shit smeared on the buses.

GMoney said...

Junior Schnitkey was a GREAT bus driver but he was no Steve Knepley.

The Iceman said...

No one will ever top Bill Lytle. He's exactly how I like my bus drivers. Surly, alcoholicy, and five oclock shadowed. Greetings from London faggots...those are cigarettes here. Or meatballs.