Frick

I now know a guy named Bruce. We just shared stories for several minutes over the telephone; it was slightly worse than eating food, and significantly better than wrestling a gorilla. BUT...I did not conduct an interview with the man named Bruce, who has the last name of Feldman, and writes for ESPN.com. Nope, we just talked, for our schedules didn't match up. This is mostly because he is one of those peoples I call "busy."

Regardless, I owe you fresh material, and it will even be on the topic of college football, the very sport that Bruce Feldman covers. I know I know, I'm a wacky German.

So here's the deal, I Tivo College Football Live every weekday afternoon, which--presumably--makes me less attractive to women with straight teeth. Anyway, I was watching said television program the other day when I stumbled upon comedic gold.

As I began to watch a taped piece with West Virginia football participants Pat White and Steve Slaton (aka fast people) I noticed something that typifies America's disrespectful youth--something that would fire up your grandpa's grandpa, and most people named Ruth. And probably the guy who works at the muffler shop. Me? I just thanked God (or whoever) for inventing camera phones. Am I making any sense? Of course not, so let me set the scene of the picture you see below: This was the very beginning of a "getting to know you" piece, and Pat White was actually introducing himself as Mr. Slaton was a little too busy for the small-timers at the Worldwide Leader in Sports. Jesus, this makes me happy...





Words words words words words I don't need spell-check words words words America

-Brad
8/15/07