Tuesday, July 27, 2010

0-for-Three

It’s no secret that I have quite possibly the most one dimensional skill set in the history of basketball. Sure I can’t exactly do anything on the basketball court that requires any athleticism whatsoever, but there’s no denying that my jumpshot is as pure as a Colombian eight ball. Call me crazy, but if the objective of a sport is to put a ball through a hoop, I don’t exactly see the point in practicing irrelevant things like “defense” and “passing.” Besides, from Dominique Wilkins’ dunks to Wilt Chamberlain’s ungodly amounts of sex, there are plenty of examples of basketball players who are famous because of their greatness in just a single skill set. Anyway, because I place such an emphasis on my ability to make it rain, it seems like every time I step outside my house, someone wants to talk to me about how well I can shoot. I really can’t go anywhere without everyone asking me how I got so good at “shooting the three ball” or what it’s like “to consistently knock down the three ball.” After hearing a lot of talk about how well I shoot “the three ball”, an obvious question finally hit me the other day – didn’t some kid from my high school used to claim that he had three balls?

Ever since I graduated from tOSU about a month ago, my life as an aspiring underwear model/professional wrestler has basically consisted of playing FIFA (I can’t stress enough how much I love/hate this game. I would devote an entire blog entry to things like how Lionel Messi on FIFA 10 is easily the worst highest-rated-player-on-the-game in the history of sports video games (he’s like the antithesis of Roenick on NHL ‘94 – it’s unbelievable), but 98% of you would have no idea what I’m talking about, so I’m going to stick to writing about things with greater mass appeal, like my high school classmate’s testicles, instead. Wait, did I just do a parentheses inside parentheses in the middle of a sentence? You bet your ass I did) and half-remembering weird bits of trivia. Even though FIFA constantly frustrates me for a variety of reasons, nothing in life is more annoying to me than half-remembering things. You know what I’m talking about. You can remember things like how there used to be an old guy on the Cubs and Cardinals in the 90’s who didn’t have any ear holes on his batting helmet, but you can’t remember that his name was Gary Gaetti and he was awesome. That kinda thing.

In instances like the aforementioned one, you more than likely spend a few minutes (or days if you’re me) trying to figure out exactly what the hell that guy’s name was, before you finally give up, Google it, and then eventually move on with your life. When I was reminded about the three-balled kid, though, I didn’t have the luxury of Googling it, because Googling “kid with three balls” is simply not a good idea for a variety of reasons. This meant that my only real option was to ask a few friends from high school, but none of them could remember either. Now that it’s been almost two weeks and I still don’t know what that guy’s name was, it’s starting to consume me. Maybe it’s just the way I’m wired, but when I half-remember something, I can’t stop thinking about it until I fill in all the missing details. In this case, I can’t stop thinking about a guy with three testicles, which is a problem I would be completely fine with never having again in my life. I need this fixed and I need it fixed now.

Because I’d prefer to stop thinking about this as soon as possible, I’m turning to the Trillion Man March for help, even though I completely understand that just about all of you didn’t go to my high school and therefore have no idea who I’m talking about (although, there’s a chance you went to college with him or something, since I don’t know what happened to him after high school). But for the handful of readers who did go to BHS, here’s a list of things I know about him:

  1. He claimed to have three testicles. But you knew that already.
  2. He “played” football, much like I “played” basketball at OSU
  3. A friend told me that he remembers the kid put tape over his nipples for football practice because he had them pierced (so I guess you could say he was pretty badass)
  4. His last name was “____berry”
  5. He had a very punchable face

That’s all I got. If you know who I’m talking about, please send me an email as quickly as you can, so I can go back to living my life. Again, I understand most of you don’t care about this, but think for a second what it would be like to not be able to remember that kid’s name from your high school who had a rattail and kept a samurai sword in his locker all year without the teachers knowing (if you went to my HS, his name was Charles Crum). That’s what I’m dealing with. If you were to make a movie about my high school experience (and you absolutely wouldn’t because it consisted of playing Jenga on Saturday nights with my family while the rest of the cool kids were in a cornfield on the outskirts of town trying to touch cheerleaders in their naughty places), this kid would be one of the characters, yet I can’t remember his name. It means nothing to any of you, but for a guy like me who prides himself on having a great memory, especially for trivial things, this is a very big deal. So email me ASAP if you know who the kid is, because this is becoming a much bigger deal than it needs to be. It’s become such a big deal, in fact, that you could even say it’s driving me nuts.

UPDATE: Many of you have emailed me to suggest that I look in my high school yearbook to find Mr. Threeball. While I can't say I thought of that, it wouldn't matter anyway because for whatever reason I didn't get a yearbook in high school. I regret this decision already. I'm calling everyone I know who might have the yearbook to sort all of this out. Thanks for your concern.

___________________________________________________

I know, I know. This post sucked. I didn’t write it for you, though. I wrote it because I have an enormous character flaw of not being able to let things go and I’m desperate. Sorry. To make up for this letdown and at least give you some sort of reward for reading through all of that, here’s a video of Club Trillion fans from Columbus that makes my Mr. Rainmaker video look like it was easier than a Michigan cheerleader. It was sent in to me by John Jones, who made the video with his friends (and claimed that a few of them are wearing Club Tril shirts in the video). There’s your shout-out, John. And here’s your video.

Proud To Be An American But Even Prouder To Be A Buckeye,

Mark Titus

Club Trillion Founder