Disclosure: This post has nothing to do with sex or anything XXX. I just felt I needed a titilating title to get anyone to read yet another post about the election. This one, however, is going to be a little different, and if you stick around until the end I will reward you by explaining how George Bush Sr. made my junior high flag football team forfeit our game against our rivals, the hated Block Junior High School Tigers!

My thoughts on the election: I voted for Obama and was very moved when he won, but to be honest I am still in shock it happened. In the entire history of America before Obama we have only had one president who was not a white, male Protestant – JFK. Think of that…only one of our 43 previous presidents was even remotely different (a Catholic), and JFK almost wasn’t elected because many people actually feared he would turn America over to the Vatican’s control!

But now Obama.

How amazing. Seriously, if you tried to tell me a couple years ago someone from Hawaii was going to be president I wouldn’t believe you, let alone a black man from Hawaii! Suffice to say I am very proud of America for swallowing its prejudices and voting for the best leader possible regardless of race, gender, or anything else that seperates us as Americans. My pride is tempered by the Proposition 8 debacle, but if we can elect Obama I believe we can, in time, open our minds enough to give all Americans – gay, straight, or just confused by our attraction to Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall – the freedom we profess our country is truly about.

Okay. One second. Just have to put my soap box away…

Alright. So you are probably wondering how this man:

Could destroy this:

Run Forrest! Run!

Well, he did! When I was in the seventh grade and a bit hefty, I was an amazing lineman on my junior high’s flag football team. While I wished I was quarterback, wide receiver, or running back, I accepted my position as lineman with the caveat that it was the only position on a flag football team you could really mix it up and throw guys to the ground, and, as a fat kid, what else did I have but the ability to throw other kids to the ground?

The season started off great. Game one? Victory! Game two? Victory! Game three? Tie! Just kidding. Victory! We were kicking ass and, if not taking names, at least writing down a very detailed description of our opponent. Our coach, Randy, was about 25 and incredibly lax about making us do laps. I loved Randy for this because, in my experience, coaches were obsessed with making players run laps. Making Randy even cooler was the fact that his day job was as a waiter at El Torrito Mexican restaurant. To a fat kid  Randy was just about the coolest man on the planet…the coach of a junior high flag football team AND able to get discounts on chimichangas? SCORE!

Eventually the last game of the season was upon us and we were to play the beforementioned Block team, who was tied with us for first. This meant that whoever won would go on to the incredibly important Bay Area Junior High School flag football playoffs.

Ten minutes before game-time I affixed my flags to my velcro belt and stepped onto the field with a scowl. We were gonna DESTROY these Block Junior High jerks! I did some stretches even though I should have been wondering where Coach Randy was…I mean the game was to start in minutes! I didn’t worry too much though, because I knew that he would be there. This game, after all, was huge!

My confidence eroded as the clock ticked down to game time and Coach Randy wasn’t there. The Block Junior High dillweeds smiled, cocky, as the ref told us that we would have to forfeit if our Coach wasn’t there in ten minutes. Well, let me tell you…the sweat rolled down our backs as we waited and prayed for our coach, but he never showed. The ref soon announced that we had forfeited, and thus lost our chance at the playoffs. The Block F-faces jumped up and down, triumphant.

One by one my teammates slinked off the field, but I wouldn’t leave.  I couldn’t imagine that a guy as cool as Randy would bail on us, so I sat at mid-field and waited. A half hour passed until I couldn’t see another kid, teacher, or parent on the horizon. I was about to leave when I saw a sweaty Randy charging my way. I stood.

“Coach Randy! What happened?”

“Where is everyone?” Coach Randy asked as he reached me and took a knee, winded.

“They left. They called the game half an hour ago.”

Coach Randy grimaced, then coughed over and over.

“I’m…so…sorry…Oh God…I think I might be having a heart attack.”

“Wow,” I replied. “Maybe you should try running some laps sometime. I mean, I hate ’em and all, but they might help you not have a heart attack.”

Coach Randy stood and nodded.

“What happened?” I asked. “Where were you?”

“Well,” Coach Randy began, “I was waiting tables at El Torrito -”

“As you do,” I interrupted, “And get discounts on chimichangas.”

“Right,” Coach Randy said. “Well, right as my shift was about to end in walks the fucking president! I mean the President..President Bush!”

“The president? Why the hell was he there?”

“Watch your mouth with that ‘hell’ stuff.”

“You just said ‘fuck’!

“I know, but I’m an adult. I can say ‘fuck’.”

I nodded. Coach Randy placed a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, son. He was here to make some speech or whatever, and, well, he got sat at my table, and you can’t just stop serving the President of the United States mid meal!”

I nodded slowly.

“He tipped really well by the way.”

I nodded again, then slumped off the field. It was the first time a Republican screwed me.

So there you have it. Hopefully Obama will stay away from my recreational sports.