My First MLS Game

I went to my first MLS game this past weekend as Orlando City SC took on FC Dallas. This writing is probably the first time I have actually gotten the team names correct. So, as you could probably guess, I am not much of a soccer fan.

Even though I'm not a soccer fan, I am enough of a sports fan that I have at least enough knowledge to carry on a conversation about the sport. Because of my limited knowledge about soccer, I decided to look up the rosters of the two teams to see how many guys I knew. The answer was one. Kaka was on Orlando City, and I only knew him from my days of playing FIFA 2002. I remember Kaka being awesome, so I was pretty excited to see him play. Of course, I found out when we got there that he had a red card in the previous game, so he wouldn't be playing. You really dropped the ball on that one, soccer.

Still, there are good things about attending a soccer matchup. The best thing about soccer is the size of the players. As someone who stands just 5'9", I enjoy that I can relate to players who are actually my size. Also, since soccer isn't a real sport, their total lack of athleticism also makes them easier to relate to...just kidding soccer fans. They are real athletes, as was evident from this 5'4" guy on Dallas who was quick as shit. With a guy that small and that quick, I decided that he was my favorite player, so congratulations on that Michael Barrios.

But to me, soccer is a game of almost-exciting moments. You'll see a guy streaking down the field with the ball, but he won't be able to get the ball centered in any meaningful way, so there isn't really any legitimate shot at a goal. You'll see a big pass down the field that gets intercepted by the defense and slowly moved in the opposite direction. There are the occasional moments that lead to shots on goal, but those are almost always missed, so you're left waiting for a climax.

Basically what I'm saying is soccer is the sports world's version of soaking. There's nothing wrong with that, but since I am an adult, I have a finite time for sports, and soccer just isn't going to make the cut for me. Still, it was a fine experience, and I would recommend giving it a try. It's a good chance to get outside and soak in the sun; just don't count on climaxing.

The One Time I Held A Gun

I am not a violent person. I'm basically a giant pussy when it comes down to it. I've never been in a fight, and outside of one time, I have never had my hands on a gun, outside of the two I'm carrying around at all times (flexes, audience holds back laughter [imaginary audience, because nobody actually watches me blog]). But there was that one time that I was given a real gun and told to open fire. Here is my story.

So the beginning is going to make me sound way cooler than I actually was. I was friends with these twins in high school and their parents went out of town. If my memory serves correct, they threw a party the night before and ended up having a Culligan jug of coins stolen. So they were a little freaked out about that. They had some of their girl friends along with me and some of my buddies stay over at the house. Yeah, so girls wanted me to "stay over" at the house for "protection." Hot shit, right?

I took full advantage of the situation. While everyone hung out upstairs and socialized, I went down to the basement, turned on the Sega Genesis and played FIFA 94 for hours on end to play out a World Cup Tournament where I was at least one team in every game. So, like I said, the beginning of the story made me sound way cooler than I was.

It got to night time and a couple of the girls were hanging out in the room next to the video game room, so there was occasional conversation between us. They probably wanted me to do boy/girl stuff, but I wasn't falling for that. Besides, I was busy. I had played all day and finally gotten down to the championship between Argentina and Germany. Things were going pretty dang well.

All of a sudden, I heard a popping noise coming from upstairs. I wouldn't have thought anything of it had it not been followed by screaming by all the girls and then some yelling from my buddies. Ugh, I just started the World Cup Final, and now I have to put it on pause. The two girls in the room next to me are screaming for me to do something since they think it might be somebody shooting at the house. So I make my way upstairs to get this figured out so I can get back to important business.

The girls upstairs are frantic, and my buddies took fireplace pokers and went after the people who were outside the house. Then, one of the twins runs down with .44 Magnum (not sure if this was the actual gun, but from a quick Google search, it was something similar. Call me Mr. Gun Nut) and hands it to me to go out there and protect the house by summoning my inner Bronson and blasting everyone in sight. She hands me the gun, and I instinctively handle it like I'm getting a batch of cookies out of the oven. It takes about three seconds of holding it before I gently place it on a table, and tell her, "I don't think we're going to need to use deadly force."

By the time I got outside to...help? I guess. My friends were already heading back as they found out it was just some other guys we went to high school with who set off firecrackers by the front door. Everybody was okay.

This would seem to be a happy ending, right? You couldn't be more wrong. The girls down in the basement jumped into the video game room for safety, kicked the Genesis and froze the game. Everything that I had worked so hard for had been taken away from me. This would have been the perfect opportunity for me to turn my attention to the ladies as they were no doubt turned on by the fact that my friends jumped into danger, and I kept my calm instead of murdering innocent people. Did I take advantage? No, I pouted, because the idiots couldn't successfully jump behind a bed without throwing their foot out like a goddamned rag doll.

This may surprise you, but I didn't do real well with the ladies early on in life.

And that's the story of the one time I held a gun.