That brought me back to my intra-mural all-star days (insert whatever sound you associate with time travel here... just not Wayne's World's one... that's overused... be more creative... how about that old Timewarp Song? Yes... that will do.)
Intramural All-Star
It’s election night and excitement has reached a fever pitch, and not because Jimmy Fallon and Drew Barrymore were going to make a sequel.
The excitement bred from a field just south of Biddle, where dew lavished the turf with a layer just thin enough to glisten off of the bold lights shining from above, while the mist hovered around the heads of each player, luminescent like a halo over each of the 14 heads about to do battle.
Shades of Howard Cosell.
Taking to the quasi-frozen tundra on this glorious night was team Click Clack against the Skulls.
Taking part in this game of intramural greatness I realized the different kinds of intramural players, and thought it was about time to write about them.
The Jackass- Most teams have at least one. These are the guys who maybe make one catch, but every time there is a penalty or a close call start acting like John McEnroe against Bjorn Borg. These guys feel that a referee being paid $10 an hour, should be held accountable for every minute of the game and that any disagreement is a sign of ineptitude.
The Pacifist- This guys pulls in a couple catches, but stays quiet and low to the ground. Sometimes he’ll make a big play, but for the most part his job is to not make mistakes. In my mind this guy is the 2006 Gary Payton of the flag football world. Except less old, and he never had those “great moments” that the Glove brought to the game in the mid-nineties.
The Talker- This guy believes he’s the leader of the team because he’s such a tremendous athlete, but the whole time runs around like an idiot, yelling and occasionally agreeing with the Jackass. This guy reminds me of every single stereotypical public high school gym teacher, which is ironic, because that’s probably where he’ll end up.
The Rage-a-holic- Some of you might remember the classic flip-out from Joe Miklulik this summer, the minor league head coach who went on a 20-minute tirade that will go down as one of the all-time greatest YouTube moments of all time. Anyway, the Rager puts this to shame. Every time he gets the ball he becomes a battering ram of despair, decimating all of those in his path like he’s one of those tree cutters in every single forest-based animated movie. Sadly this bull of a guy doesn’t realize that there are rules to this brilliant game, and his ’roid enhanced abolishment of the opposition will draw a flag pending on whether or not the ref is text messaging during the play.
The Speedster- This guy played some sport recently, and has better wheels than that handicapped kid from the Burger King commercials. Just give him the ball and watch him go. It’s tough to make a professional equivalent to this guy, but Allen Iverson comes to mind. Without the ’tats and the “we talking ’bout practice” attitude.
The Degenerate- This guy lives for flag football. On nights before games he follows a strict regiment of salad, pasta and The Virgin Suicides just so he hates men, and thus can’t like the guys on the other team. Then he turns on a tape he has of an old Discovery Channel film of pigs going at it, trying to force himself to be attracted to their skin, believing that this attraction will bring the pigskin to him on game night. This guy reminds me of Tony Stewart. Sure, you’re excited, and it’s fun, but it’s NASCAR. Let’s be serious…is it really worth killing a guy just because he passed you? The Degenerate says yes. Not only pass the guy, but rip off his genitalia so he can’t create more bastard children that might one day come back for revenge.
The Coach- No one invited this kid to play on the team, so he hooked up as the coach. He stands on the sidelines, yelling at the opponent, preaching to the refs and offering plays up for his players, who casually ignore him with a classic “we know we’re friends, but let’s be serious” look. Larry Brown coaching last years Knicks team has the closest affinity to The Coach. He knows what it’s like to feel uninvited, and then later be overruled by other people in the group. So that’s my list, but before you head off to that dodgeball game, where you plan on calling the ladies on the other side every four letter word that your mom suggested “you might not want to say honey,” think for a second. Which guy am I? I know, personally, I’ve got a little bit of every one of these, and that’s what makes intramurals the greatest rush you can possibly have. Enjoy the game, play your heart out, but shake hands at the end. Unless the guy was a Jackass. Then follow the Degenerate and grab the sheers. It’s cutting time.
Here are a few extras that did not fit in the original running of the article:
The No Show: This guy signs up for every single team he can, and then, as is implied, refuses to come to a single game. Citing too much homework or perhaps just too busy in general, this guy overcommits and then never comes through. In my mind he is the Larry Brown of intra-mural guys. Sure, you have big expectations, and maybe he won once, but that's just because he was there at the right time (cough Pistons), not necesarily because he did anything of any value.
The Chump: This guy does nothing all game, completely blanketed on offense, and then barely gets one step with his man defensively, but makes one play late in the game and reacts like he's Christian Laettner on the '92 Blue Devils. The good news is that this guy will flounder away the rest of his life in relatively obscurity, just like Laettner.
The original article is posted here.
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