Nice Pass, Lady!

I recently attended a UCLA women's basketball game, and what an experience it was.  Now, I know what you're thinking.  "Watch this, he's about to mock women's sports and make some asinine claim that girls playing a boys' game is just a watered-down version of real sports.  He'll probably make some jokes like 'she throws like a girl' or 'it's tough to make a layup when you're carrying a purse' or 'she's great at driving to the basket, she just can't park.'  Then he'll probably make some sexist remark like, 'women should stick to things they're good at like ice skating, gymnastics, and popping out babies.'  But you're wrong.  I'm not going to say any of those things, and here's why.

1. These women are very athletic, and their basketball skills are impressive.
2. I firmly believe that women are capable of accomplishing anything that men can.
3. The UCLA center, Moniquee Alexander, is six feet, six inches tall and could undoubtedly snap me in half like a pretzel stick.

In a lot of ways, I found women's basketball to be more entertaining than the men's game.  First of all, no one can dunk, so there's more focus on crisp passing and hitting the open shots.  I was quite surprised by the level of play, to be perfectly honest.  And the girls, sorry, LADIES seemed to be having a hell of a lot of fun.  Well, aside from that one elbow to the back that led to a quick shoving match, but that stuff happens.

It occurs to me at this point that you must be wondering, "What the hell was he doing at a women's basketball game in the first place?"  It's a fair question.  It's not like I have a rooting interest, alumni loyalty, or a really, really pathetic gambling addiction.  No, the truth is that my daughter plays high school basketball and we thought this would be a good way to see what the "next level" is all about.  It worked, she was very inspired.

Another surprise was that the women's basketball team actually has a cheerleading squad.  It was a little strange, to be honest.  Somehow, "Rebecca, Rebecca, she's sweet and bright, if she can't do it, Nina might!" doesn't have quite the same, I dunno, pizzazz.  Oh, and two of the cheerleaders are guys.  Seriously, on the college campus food chain, could you rank lower than male cheerleaders for women's basketball?  These dudes get probably get picked on by the physics majors and the second-string orchestra.  Then again, they spent most of the game looking up the skirts of the female cheerleaders, so perhaps they know something I don't.

Oh, and it was Breast Cancer Awareness day, which is why everyone was wearing pink which means the guy cheerleaders didn't have to change a thing.  As part of the post-game activities, there was a reception where the players signed autographs and talked to the fans.  As you can see, I got to say hello to Moniquee Alexander.

Like I said, she could snap me in half like a pretzel stick.


j

The Kansas City Death Weenie

To most of the Kauffman Stadium crowd, the evening of September 8, 2009 seemed like just another night at the ballpark; families spending time together, the weather pleasant, the hometown Kansas City Royals taking their usual beating.  John Coomer was just like the thousands of other fans in attendance that night, with one notable difference: He was the only one about to get blasted in the face with a hot dog.

The perpetrator of this heinous weenie-assault was a six-foot tall, crown-wearing lion named Sluggerrr, a violent psychopath masquerading as the Royals mascot.  Just after the seventh inning stretch, Sluggerrrr shouldered his high-powered Heckler and Koch Hot Dog Bazooka and launched round after round into the mezzanine.  Children screamed and spectators fled, as bun-shrapnel and condiments rained down upon them.  Discarding his empty weapon, Sluggerrr then armed himself with a sack of foil-wrapped franks and began hurling them at the fans like grenades.  He strutted atop the Royals dugout, seeking out victims, and that's when the fickle foam finger of fate pointed in John Coomer's direction.  Sluggerrr went into his windup and arrogantly flung the weiner behind his back.  The razzle-dazzle caught Coomer off-guard and, unable to defend himself, he took the foot-long Farmer John jumbo frank right in the eye.

Coomer was rushed to the Kansas City Medical Center, where surgeons worked frantically to repair his damaged eye and reheat the hot dog.  Surgeons work long shifts and frequently have to skip meals, so one could hardly blame them for taking a quick snack break.  After undergoing two medical procedures, Coomer was released from the hospital, but he is reportedly suffering from a variety of side effects.

"Mr. Coomer's retina was detached and, as a result, cataracts have formed," says his attorney.  "His vision may never be fully restored.  You ever get relish in your eye?  Stings.  Also, he has vowed never to eat another hot dog as long as he lives.  Nothing takes the joy out of the hot dog-eating experience like having one crash into your eye socket."

The most damning testimony of all has come from Royals season-ticket holder Ray Broome.  "I've been coming to Royals games for years, and this is the most disturbing thing I've seen since the George Brett Hemorrhoid Incident of 1980," said Broome.  "Sluggerrr is a friggin' menace who's been assaulting fans for years.  First it was his T-Shirt Slingshot, now the Hot Dog Bazooka.  There's no doubt in my mind that Sluggerrr drilled that guy on purpose, I saw it with my own eyes.  He just whipped the weenie behind his back, and it nailed Mr. Coomer in the face.  Ketchup splattered everywhere, it was gruesome.  They need to put Sluggerrr away, it's just a matter of time before he kills someone."

Meanwhile, conspiracy theorists have speculated that Sluggerrr may not have been acting alone.  A witness who was sitting in the left field bleachers that night hinted at the existence of a second bunman who was firing hot dogs from the visitors' bullpen.  Known only as "the man in the Reds jacket," this witness claims to have seen a puff of mustard from behind the outfield wall right before Coomer was hit by the hot dog.

Sluggerrr's statements to police have only confused the matter.  "Yeah, I was throwing hot dogs into the crowd, that's my job.  I mean, who doesn't want a free hot dog, right?  I just fling 'em into the crowd,  I don't see where they all end up.  Maybe I threw the dog that hit him, maybe I didn't.  It was a crazy night, man, weiners were flying all over the place."

Kansas City manager Trey Hillman supported the mascot's statement, saying  "Look, if Sluggerrr actually nailed that guy, it must've been an accident.  I've been with the Royals for some time now, and if I've learned anything it's that no one in our organization is capable of throwing strikes.  Hell, if Sluggerrr could intentionally hit something, he wouldn't be the mascot.  I'd put him in the starting lineup."

The criminal investigation continues, however, Coomer's attorney told the media that the civil case his client filed against the Kansas City Royals organization has been resolved to the satisfaction of both parties.  Terms of the settlement are undisclosed but neighbors report a shiny new vehicle in the Coomer driveway.

g

Dear Mr. Sunshine, Issue 1: Flight Delays

As a new feature here on Knucklehead! our correspondent Mr. Sunshine (yeah, it's still me) will be helping our readers deal with the frustrations present in everyday life.  If there's something driving you absolutely insane, drop him a line at knuckleheadhumor@gmail.com, and he will help you see things in a more positive light.

Tim Waites from Phoenix, Arizona writes:

Dear Mr. Sunshine,

I'm an Informational Technology consultant, so my job requires a lot of travel.  Over the past few years, I've noticed that the airline system has gone straight to hell.  I make it a point to get to the airport two hours before my scheduled departure so I can check in and pass through security, but inevitably my flight gets delayed and I wind up sitting around the airport for five or six hours.  In fact, just a couple weeks ago I had to fly from Phoenix to Des Moines to attend a seminar entitled "Byte Me: How the Internet Screws Up Society."  Well, instead of leaving at 4:00 as scheduled, my flight didn't depart until after midnight.   Is there anything travelers can do to deal with these frequent delays?

Sincerely,
Tim Waites

Dear Tim,

Instead of focusing on the inconvenience of delayed flights, which are beyond your control, make the most of the extra time that your airline has so thoughtfully provided.  There are many exciting activities that you can organize on short notice.

First, though, you'll need to determine just how much time you'll have to fill.  If you're booked on a reasonably reliable airline, say Southwest, your flight will probably be delayed for less than an hour.  If you're flying Delta, plan for sixty to ninety minutes.  Of course, if you're one of the unfortunate souls who still flies American Airlines, you may as well break out the sleeping bags, popcorn and DVDs and get ready for a good old-fashioned slumber party.

If you're into gambling, you might consider appointing yourself your gate's "bookie" and take bets on your eventual departure time.  I'd suggest one of the two following formats.  The simplest would be to have all the passengers on your flight kick in five bucks and pick a departure time.  The person closest to the actual time (without going over) wins the entire pot.  Or you could establish what's known as an "over/under".  As the bookie, you predict a departure time, say, 5:35 PM.  Bettors would then place wagers on whether the flight would leave before or after the set time.  Some lucky passenger could end up winning a hundred bucks or so, which could pay for an in-flight drink or two.

Another fun activity would be an airport scavenger hunt.  Put together a list of items, divide your flightmates into teams of four to six, and see who could complete their list first.  There are lots of interesting items to be found in the terminal.  You might include: a child's shoe, a broken luggage tag, the flight number of a plane that's actually leaving on time, a photo of someone sleeping and/or passed out, someone else's boarding pass, one of the X-ray trays from the security checkpoint, a pilot's hat.  You're only limited by your imagination.

If your travel plans include changing planes at another airport, with your delay there's a really good chance that you're going to miss your connection or at least cut it close.  If you can find someone on your flight that's making the same connection, how about holding an "Airport Steeplechase" from your arrival gate to your departure gate?  This will be especially exciting in airports like Dallas-Fort Worth where the terminals are in different ZIP codes and you have to use their impossibly convoluted monorail system.  Plowing through your fellow travelers, sprinting up escalators, and dealing with last-minute gate changes will turn potential stress into the heart-pumping thrill of athletic competition.   

You see, Tim, flight delays are only a nuisance if you allow them to be.  Sure, you could sit around the airport drinking ten-dollar beers and listening to kids whine to their parents, but why put yourself through all that?  If you tap into your creativity and spirit of adventure, those extra hours until departure will just fly by.

Happy traveling!

Your friend,
Mr. Sunshine


d