Gut Rumbles

October 02, 2008

More ex-wife bullshit

Originally published October 30, 2002

I received an email from the Bloodless Cunt at work today informing me that my son now is enrolled in a wrestling class that practices from 6:30 until 8:45 every SATURDAY NIGHT in Springfield, 14 miles down the road from where I live. This Saturday night my beloved Georgia Bulldogs play the hated Florida Gators on ESPN with a 7:30 kickoff.

I have a somewhat different attitude toward Quinton wrestling and Quinton playing soccer. If my school had offered a wrestling program, I would have been better at that than I was at football, and I was pretty good at football. My boy is built a lot like I was in my younger days and he is strong as an ox for his size. He has big legs, a low waist and good upper-body strength. Like me, he is built to wrestle.

The little shit has practiced enough on ME that he should fear no opponent he faces, ever. He seems to be ready to rumble, even when matched against older, heavier opponents. He suprises those bigger boys by whipping their asses sometimes.

I hate soccer with a passion, because I believe that it is a titty-hugging, pussy-assed game that only mamas can enjoy, mainly because they like the social life that goes with it. I believe that soccer sucks as a sport and is downright unAmerican as a game. It's WAY too French for me.

But wrestling is different. Yeah. That's mano-a-mano, like fending off a pulling guard and making a tackle in the backfield. And if my boy has found a sport where he can kick some ass, I want to be there to watch.

We'll be there Saturday night.

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