I’ve been out of commission for awhile as I’ve been campaigning for Great Britain to field a baseball team for the World Baseball Classic. It’s been a stressful, intense but ultimately futile process as the only players put forth were myself and “Tiger” Tim Henman.
On Sunday, I had an epiphany that my new NBA comparison is Leandro Barbosa which was confirmed by Dr. Stephen McCloskey. Discovering this made me far more excited to watch the Suns take on the Lakers as it was basically like I was taking on Kobe Bryant. It was just at my peak of excitement when disaster struck: the power went out.
Sure, there were rumors of snow coming to Athens. Please. I laughed at such suggestions. These wild allegations flew around for a couple of weekends in January only to bring warmth and green grass that would make anyone believe they were in a whales vagina (scholars maintain the translation was lost centuries ago).
But God did it snow. Once the first flurries came down I assumed they would be gone in twenty minutes as the typical Georgia snow storm goes. 5 hours later in a cold and dark apartment I shriveled up in a blanket and damned the weather channel. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t fucking around this time?
I called friends and family to let them know that Larry and I weren’t going to make it. I envisioned a slow and painful death. Our dead bodies would be discovered by our landlord who had come to let us know we had received another noise complaint. Our frozen, starved bodies were close, but not too close to each other as we had not reached the point of ever wanting body warmth. Death was the better option. Our family would come down to confirm the bodies and people would congratulate my brother Ruben for making it out alive, only to later realize he typically weighs 135 pounds (at 6′2”).
It was at this low moment in our lives that Larry and I realized we would soon be under attack. There were several fiends outside wreaking havoc on the complex, throwing white grenades and building a white army. Who were these people? Larry and I prepared for the worst. The power outage had caused all the food to go bad and we began assembling all the liquor Larry had to create molotov cocktails in case these rebels turned their attention to our superior bodies for meals.
Once we braced for attack, we began to reach out for aid. My laptop died and my phone was on its last legs. Times were desperate. Luckily our prayer was answered in the form of a white, armor-plated Jeep driven by the legendary Zach “Deuce” Richardson. We dodged the malcontents on the way to the tank and escaped the war zone. We left our home for the snow-crazed. Goodbye.
Our next stop took us to McDonalds in search of allies and food. We sent Larry in to the store to investigate, not realizing the full danger we were putting him in. Hours passed. Zach and I grew worried. All of a sudden, McDonalds came under siege. The power went out. We couldn’t see anything. Zach ventured out to see what was going on but returned suddenly after his face came into close contact with a hideous creature he dubbed “The Sidewalk”. We began to panic. Then, out of nowhere, Larry burst out of the McDonalds with two bags of food!
We quickly evaded the malicious attackers and searched for a safe house. Zach’s phone, full of life, was able to save the day and located a home for us to stay. It was thanks to the kindness of these people that I am alive to tell this story today.
Until next time, Ball Hard.
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