Friday, March 16, 2012

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 9

It seems that spring has come a little early this year and I’m for one not going to sit around and bitch about it, that’s because Ohio winters are not my favorite thing in the world (they can seem like the apocalypse for me sometimes). With the warm weather approaching there are tons of things one can get excited about. Just for example I now get to creepily stare through my shades at legs, tan legs, defined tan legs, and long defined tan legs (I hope I didn’t leave anything out). There are a number of ways one can tell when spring has arrived and while each one is effective in their own right I’d like to talk about how I used to know spring was here in college.

After my collegiate athletic career the marking of spring was more than likely told by day drinking to a power hour mix outside on our buddies front porch (I bet you thought I was going to say flowers start blooming didn’t you…wow you really don’t know me). But during my time as a Witt athlete (Tiger Up bitches) I knew spring was just around the corner when our pool workouts for track would start to wind down. Now imagine fifty collegiate coeds all in a pool together “working out” and you can imagine the kind of productivity our team got in the water (2002 NCAC Outdoor Track Champs though haters).

Contrary to other winter pool workouts when we were allotted a few minutes at the end of practice to basically dick off in the water the last pool workout of the winter we always got a lot more time to enjoy aquatic activities. Well the sprinters and middle distance did, the distance runners still had a complete workout (until I decided to get on the high dive). To set the scene our seventy-something distance coach was standing beside the deep end “coaching” the distance runners with his back to the pool and an open target when I told my buddies:

“Watch this; I’m going to drench (Radio Edit).”

I nonchalantly exit the pool and make my way up the ladder to the top of the high dive. I line up my target who is actually still coaching at the time, take a deep breath and explode off the end of the board. Any experienced splasher will know that a solid approach to drenching someone is the slow motion running in the air as you approach the water while never taking your eyes off the target. A number of the distance runners see me coming and starting running and diving into the pool but (Radio Edit) is completely oblivious to my attack. I hit the water perfect, reverse sleeper it and come up to (Radio Edit) dripping wet and cursing me as he walked out of the pool. It took everything I had not to laugh.

I didn’t think the whole splashgate was a big deal until the next day when I got called into my coach’s office with (Radio Edit) and my hurdles coach. I didn’t even get all the way into the room before (Radio Edit) starts ripping my ass about how he was wet yesterday all the way down to his underwear and how his wife didn’t understand and basically somehow it seems I almost killed the man. For the next half hour or so I got my ass ripped by everyone in the room and literally thought I was going to get kicked off the team (I mean for shit’s sake it’s Div III track they don’t even have cuts).

Somehow I escaped with only a verbal lashing from all the coaches and was feeling pretty dumb about the whole thing when my hurdles coach grabbed me in the hallway as I left the meeting and said:

“DT; don’t you ever do that shit again. But, that was some pretty funny shit!”


Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

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