Post by Whittaker on Sept 30, 2016 11:24:26 GMT -5
A few years ago on NOSF there was a discussion about today's kids being soft and lazy compared to us old guys.
I found that funny and wrote a little spoof of my high school football days.
I've had several request to pen a sequel with particular interest in hearing more about Dizzie.
I think there's one coming.
Here's the original.
It was my junior year at Upper, which made my ma proud cause I was the first to go past sixth grade.
We had an 8pm home game with Carey, a town I'd never been to on account of Pa saying it was a strange place, full of witches and catholics.
After school I rushed through my chores. Then me and my sister Dizzie went out to the pasture and castrated some buck sheep. You see, it was my turn to bring the after-game meal.
I took a bath in the creek, pulled off the leeches and got dressed. Dizzie held our mule while I loaded my stuff. I had my leather helmet, my homemade cleats, my chewin tobacco, my rifle and a jug of cider. There weren't room for the buck nuts so I tied them to Peter's tail. Peter is the name Dizzie gave our mule.
Nowadays, when I see those spoilt high school kids driving those pickup trucks with the nuts hanging from the trailer hitch, I laugh cause I mighta been the first with those sheep balls tied to Peter's tail.
Anyway, as I rode Peter to Upper I had plenty of time to think cause it was a long ride. I thought about what those Carey boys might look like, you know, like how big they would be and what color. And I wondered if their cheerleaders were pretty and if any of them would forget their knickers like the girls from Willard sometimes did...at least that's what Big Bill said...and he oughta know cause he's our captain and almost 23 years old.
All of a sudden something smacked me up side the head. At first I thought Pa musta hit me for thinkin about girls butts that might be witches' butts, but then I remembered that Pa wasn't there. Then I got smacked again on the other side of the face. It was that damn mule swishin his tail. And that sack of sheep nuts was swingin and hittin me right upside the ears. I couldn't get Peter to stop swishin his tail and I musta got hit fifty times on the way to the game. God how I hated that mule.
But Dizzie loved him.
Dizzie rode Peter all the time. My sister's real name is Ella but we started calling her Dizzie because she would ride that mule and she would get a dreamy smile on her face and a dizzy look in her eyes. I never understood it because that mule was rough to ride. He bounced and jolted and it was impossible to get comfortable on his bony back. But whenever Dizzie wasn't around the house you could find her with that stupid mule. If she wasn't riding Peter she was rubbing him down, singing softly to him the whole time.
Anyway, I've gone on too long and haven't even told you folks about the football game.
But let me tell you young fellers. You got it easy. I see you in your fancy cars with the soft seats and air conditioning. I see you eatin yogert and listening to that Eminem freak. I see you prancin around on that fake grass all padded up like an astronaut.
I sit up in the top row with my binoculars and I see you wearing those girly gloves so you can catch the football. I see you drinkin that Gator juice while somebody puts ice on your boo-boos.
And I think...you never rode no Peter and had nuts slapping you upside the head!
That's dedication!
I found that funny and wrote a little spoof of my high school football days.
I've had several request to pen a sequel with particular interest in hearing more about Dizzie.
I think there's one coming.
Here's the original.
It was my junior year at Upper, which made my ma proud cause I was the first to go past sixth grade.
We had an 8pm home game with Carey, a town I'd never been to on account of Pa saying it was a strange place, full of witches and catholics.
After school I rushed through my chores. Then me and my sister Dizzie went out to the pasture and castrated some buck sheep. You see, it was my turn to bring the after-game meal.
I took a bath in the creek, pulled off the leeches and got dressed. Dizzie held our mule while I loaded my stuff. I had my leather helmet, my homemade cleats, my chewin tobacco, my rifle and a jug of cider. There weren't room for the buck nuts so I tied them to Peter's tail. Peter is the name Dizzie gave our mule.
Nowadays, when I see those spoilt high school kids driving those pickup trucks with the nuts hanging from the trailer hitch, I laugh cause I mighta been the first with those sheep balls tied to Peter's tail.
Anyway, as I rode Peter to Upper I had plenty of time to think cause it was a long ride. I thought about what those Carey boys might look like, you know, like how big they would be and what color. And I wondered if their cheerleaders were pretty and if any of them would forget their knickers like the girls from Willard sometimes did...at least that's what Big Bill said...and he oughta know cause he's our captain and almost 23 years old.
All of a sudden something smacked me up side the head. At first I thought Pa musta hit me for thinkin about girls butts that might be witches' butts, but then I remembered that Pa wasn't there. Then I got smacked again on the other side of the face. It was that damn mule swishin his tail. And that sack of sheep nuts was swingin and hittin me right upside the ears. I couldn't get Peter to stop swishin his tail and I musta got hit fifty times on the way to the game. God how I hated that mule.
But Dizzie loved him.
Dizzie rode Peter all the time. My sister's real name is Ella but we started calling her Dizzie because she would ride that mule and she would get a dreamy smile on her face and a dizzy look in her eyes. I never understood it because that mule was rough to ride. He bounced and jolted and it was impossible to get comfortable on his bony back. But whenever Dizzie wasn't around the house you could find her with that stupid mule. If she wasn't riding Peter she was rubbing him down, singing softly to him the whole time.
Anyway, I've gone on too long and haven't even told you folks about the football game.
But let me tell you young fellers. You got it easy. I see you in your fancy cars with the soft seats and air conditioning. I see you eatin yogert and listening to that Eminem freak. I see you prancin around on that fake grass all padded up like an astronaut.
I sit up in the top row with my binoculars and I see you wearing those girly gloves so you can catch the football. I see you drinkin that Gator juice while somebody puts ice on your boo-boos.
And I think...you never rode no Peter and had nuts slapping you upside the head!
That's dedication!
I am always telling my wife and kids to turn that damn air conditioner off just because it's only 90 degrees. bring born and raised on a farm we always had had a cool breezes and 90 degrees wasn't hot to me. But my wife being born a townie and my kids being city boys thinks that if it's above 75 degrees it's time to turn the air on. They also think that I'm crazy for sleeping with either a sheet or blanket over me. they also want the air on when we are driving around and I don't. I keep telling them to roll the windows down and get that good country air in that it's fresh and cheap. I miss living on a farm where you learn what hard work is like and enjoying. 