Sports humor is nearly as entertaining as sport itself
Look as the sports humor video bloopers we've come to know and love. Be good...or be funny...and win!
You think that's an exaggeration? Well, maybe it is. A little. I'd still prefer to attend a rodeo with a clown skilled in BOTH bull fighting and arena humor, though.
Although I did my best in various athletic endeavours over the years, rodeo was the only one in which I reached professional status. Varsity high school basketball, but not even close to college level. Office slowpitch softball. Like that.
Yet some of the heartiest sports humor of my entire life was spawned not in organized games but right in the home.
Group Home, that is.
In 1974 and 1975, I was Executive Director and live-in houseparent for an intervention group home in Huron, South Dakota. That facility housed teenagers in crisis, usually only for a few weeks or months while Social Services pondered their fates.
One such resident in the summer of 1975 was a stunning blonde sixteen-year-old girl I'll call Wanda. She was fleet of foot, probably twice my speed--but then, in a footrace, I make the slowest Tortoise look like a turbocharged Nascar racer.
Wanda came to live with us
A cutesy little thing
Five-foot-four of teenaged girl
She joined us in the spring
Slim at one hundred and ten
She could not have weighed more
When it came to Indian leg wrestling
She could hardly know the score
Me, I'm five-eleven
One hundred sixty pounds
I've ridden National Finals bulls
That bucked and spun around
Leg wrestling was an easy deal
I'd proved that I was good
Maybe one man in a hundred
Could flip me to the wood
So when the kids in our Group Home
Decided one fine day
To avoid the winter cold outside
And stay inside to play
I gladly joined when they suggested
Leg wrestling for the bunch
I was pumped and primed and ready
About two hours after lunch
My skill was truly awesome
As I smoked the younger set
Including even Tommy Todd
Two hundred pounds and yet
There was one resident remaining
Little Wanda, cute and sweet
'Twixt me and our house title
For bragging on the street
We lined up same as always
I could scarce believe my fate
She flipped me on my balding head
On the carpet near the grate
Oh, this could never happen
I put the next two in the bag
But then young Wanda caught me cheating
With a grip upon the shag
In each rematch thereafter
She made me look an utter fool
For underestimating Wanda
Five foot four of tough and cool
Oh, hey, it wasn't really all that funny at the time...to me and my male ego, that is. Everyone else in the home certainly seemed to think it was halarious, though.