"I saw two big, fat, naked bikers in the woods off of 17 having sex. How am I supposed to CHIP with that going on, Doug?"
Well, if Shooter's ability to chip is analogous to my ability to live a normal life, spring sports are my fat, naked bikers. How am I supposed to LIVE with all these great games going on? And I'm doomed until the end of June because my fat, naked bikers aren't going away.
Last year, I wrote breathlessly about how the NBA playoffs were consuming my life. Even though this season's NBA Round 1 paled in comparison, sports are ubiquitous once again. When I combine nightly hoops action with again jostling for position aboard the Rangers Bandwagon and following my first-place Yankees, I'm positively whelmed. A few times every night, I actually miss part of an important game because I'm so transfixed on another, more important game. It's all more of an ordeal than taking a brood of children to a Yankee game.
When you throw a newborn baby into the mix, I'm more tired than Jerry and Kramer during the Kenny Rogers Roasters episode:
It's a good thing that my summer vacation starts at the end of June. I'm really going to need to kick back after all this grueling sports-watching. I'll probably need a few weeks to cleanse my eyes after staring at those fat, naked bikers for so long.
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