Okay Go  OTB
Now is the Winter of My Discontent © 2017 a.k.a. Cary Galt

Okay Go OTB

cary_galt
cary_galt
Feb 18, 2018, 2:27 PM |
6

 

 

     Okay. So I’m only a bottom feeder. It’s not my fault. I’m not picking my opponents. The Fates and my team’s inability to win one of these things is picking for me. My team captain, like Professor Farnsworth, keeps telling me, “Good news everybody! Even though we’ve lost again, we are almost guaranteed to play the lowest rated teams in the playoffs.”

     It’s nice to know that we have the chance to be the best of the worst.

                                                                ------------------------

 

 

     Well the playoffs are on the way! I was a little excited and nervous, I admit, to begin to help my friend towards a title as captain that he wants  each of the 58 years he has been doing this.

     I doubt that I need to describe a tournament hall. Long rows of tables; remember junior high school? People of all sizes and shapes and colors. Okay, so maybe there are more than a few that are decidedly heavier than a  natural paperweight. Some are children, practically fresh from the womb. Some are ancient, a half step from the tomb.

     The thing that amazes me most is this clattering, clucking mob will become stone silent in a few moments and sit that way, patiently for the next four hours if they need to. I’m glad that I came early today. Avoiding my normal rush from the parking lot to the table to the clock ticking away.
Well that is a bit of an exaggeration. I’ve never actually been late for a match. But I have been close.

     Everything is prepared. The board is set. The clock is primed. And my opponent is no where to be seen. The announcements go a little long today. I’m staring at an empty seat.

     The clock begins pulsing. Just what I need, required to waste an hour before the forfeit is official.
It’s official. This is stupid and dull.

     I have a neighbor just like that. He smiles at my wife when he thinks no one is looking. Of course being stupid, everyone is looking.  His wife is looking.  I am looking.  The other neighbors are looking. I don’t need to say anything, because my wife says he tried talking to her once and his breath was so abhorrent that she could smell it from five feet away. 

     Besides, if she screws up: I am free! Free! Free!

     Oops. Did I say that out loud? Just no one tell her. Okay?

     

     Okay,,, so yes, I would miss her. And yes, I do sort of like her a lot. And yes, I kind of need her almost as much as my left arm (yes I am left handed).  And, yes, she does kind of make the sun come up in the morning for me, but don’t tell her that! I can hardly stand her now. She’d be unbearable if she knew that crap.

 

     Oh yeh, the guy never showed up.