Mercury is Delicious, etc.

For the first time, tonight I considered giving up Ultimate Frisbee. This moment of doubt rose inside me out of my sickened gut on the car ride home after a horrid performance. That's how I feel about golf every time I play -- I loathe my ineptitude in sports (if you can even call golf a sport; it's more like an exercise to prepare the sinful, profane, club-hurling guys like me for an eternity with big Beelzebub in the blazing pits of hell) -- but this is the first time I've had this feeling about Ultimate. Normally I would hit the Dane and drink off my woes, but now that I'm on yet another hopeless quest for abs, I shunned the beer in favor of an ice pack on the knee and, afterwards, some reading in the bathtub.

And only reading. Honest.

I had the dropsies on four or five easy ones. I didn't score; can't remember when that last happened. Defense was all right, I guess, but I make my money catching touchdowns. Oh wait, I don't make money playing 'bee.

And now, with this revelation that I suck, I guess I never will. There goes my last dream, smushed like a lonely rose among weeds.

Point is, I enjoy making catches. I enjoy scoring (who doesn't enjoying scoring?). The dropsies, however, especially the endzone dropsies, haunt me day and night. I remember dropping a hammer from Keith back when the Ass Clowns were the Killer Bs. Over half a decade ago. Or when last I played Fall league, a couple years back, when Bill, in the last game of the season, connecting to me via telepathic manbond, read my endzone cut perfectly and hooked me up with a beautiful outside-in forehand curling between several defenders right into my outstretched hands for a touchdo...ow...ow... down to the ground. Shitsicle! Mr. Santner was there.

Witness!

In any event, horrid play aside, I'm dealing with a case of the Shitty Knees, further compounding matters and adding injury to insult. This leaves me agile on my feet as Falcor, the magical flying dog from the Neverending Story (this is coincidentally the title of my sex life. Err...that's not it; there's a "never" in there somewhere though). I have in mind to work on foot speed this winter betwixt Frisbee seasons, but I'm betting instead I'll star in that blockbuster movie, Couch Wars: Attack of the Lazies. Anyway, I need the pain in the knees to subside before any such endeavor is pursued. I'm a hobbling yoda without the force powers. I'm also not short and green.

Anyhoo, my spirits soared after watching Stephen Colbert interview Ted Danson on the Colbert Report (The pros of eating mercury? Shrug. "It's delicious.") and now I think I'll keep playing Frisbee. Crisis averted.

The funny cures all.