I learned something about myself this weekend, something that’s been buried deep in the recesses of my subconscious.
I would rather get hit by a car than pee in my pants.
I was on my way to work yesterday morning when it became obvious that I had to urinate. At first, it was just a minor urge but as the minutes passed and I got closer to work, that minor urge turned into a major imperative. By the time I got to the intersection across from my office, I was in full pee-pee dance mode. And that’s when the truth became clear.
I approached the intersection just as the light was turning red. I had to cross a busy New York City street to reach my destination. There were four lanes worth of traffic headed towards me. I did the quick instinctual calculation in my head and decided that I could probably make it across safely. Probably but not definitely. But, then I did another quick instinctual calculation. I figured, if I stopped for the light, I could probably make it to work before my bladder exploded. Probably but not definitely.
So, I walked out in front of the approaching traffic and hustled across the street. I did not get hit by a car. And I made it into the bathroom at work without wetting my pants. It was a successful trip all around.
It’s not like I made a conscious choice to walk out into traffic instead of soiling myself. In fact, I didn’t even realize I had made the decision until a few minutes later. It was all instinct. My unconscious mind decided that it would be better to be struck and killed by a car than to have wet pants.
Of course, if I had been hit by a car, I’m pretty sure I would have peed at the same time. At least a little. I wonder if my subconscious had considered that.
Grant Wahl writes about a documentary team that’s all ready to produce a film about the first American pro athlete to come out of the closet. The filmmakers say they have agreements with the leagues, with the unions and even with companies prepared to sign endorsement deals with the subject of their film. They’ve got all their bases covered. the only thing missing, at this point, is the athlete.
But, they seem to have overlooked one factor. What if the athlete doesn’t want to be the subject of a documentary? What if the first professional gay athlete wants to come out, speak about it briefly and then try to move on? Or what if the first gay professional athlete is completely comfortable with all the attention and with becoming a symbol to the LGBT community, but doesn’t want to make a documentary with these particular filmmakers?
This One’s For Kevin by Luke Winn
Kevin Ware’s injury was horrible to look at. It was shocking and uncomfortable and more than a little gross. BUT IT’S JUST A BROKEN LEG! He didn’t land awkwardly and, all of a sudden, come down with inoperable brain cancer. He didn’t miss a jump shot and develop Lou Gehrig’s disease. Why the fuck are his teammates dedicating their season to him? He’ll be fine in a few months. He’s not dead.
Cinderella With A Swagger by Kelli Anderson
Anderson writes about Wichita State. I read this entire article but got absolutely no feel for the Shockers.
Big-Name Hunters by George Dohrmann
Dohrman presents a well researched, well reported and well written investigative piece on the use of head hunters by big name college programs to hire coaches. But, WHO CARES? This “growing trend” has absolutely no impact on the lives of sports fans.
The New Balance by Austin Murphy
An article about fat lineman, which features 8 shirtless pictures. A chubby chasers dream!
Back (Maybe, Just Maybe…) by Michael Rosenberg
Tiger’s good again. And he’s less of a dick now (maybe, just maybe..)
Point After by Steve Rushin
I literally could not get through the first paragraph of this column before I stopped reading. Bad jokes. Forced puns. All the hallmarks of a Steve Rushin column.