You know, I remember a time in which retirement used to mean you were done, finished whatever it was you were doing. Hang up the gloves, collect the pension and go golfing everyday. You didn’t “come out of retirement,” you just thought long and hard about whether or not you should do it in the first place. Like Charles Barkley did publicly for like six or seven years in a row. That was all the retirement talk there was. But just a week ago, Bill Parcels came out of what I believe to be his third retirement to write his most recent edition of “My Last Season Ever.” This kind of crap was never heard of even as recently as ten years ago. That is up until His Airness decided to pull the jersey off the ceiling and give it another run because he was bored. Apparently, you’re not allowed to do that according to the NBA. They have rules. But he did. And then he went out and bought a whole team just so he could have the option of doing it again. And then he did it again. And so like so many other words (foul and travelling to name a couple), MJ redefined retirement.
Now onto Ray Lewis’ injury (a word I’ve redefined). I have a friend who works as an EMT and had to fill in for a friend at a Ravens game. He was on the sideline with his two EMT buds and all the Ravens (and Ravenettes). Anyway, shortly after a turnover, Seth’s friend turned to him and said the Ravens sucked. Meanwhile, Ray Lewis, who is on the IR for the rest of the year, overheard him…
Ray: “What, did you say, you FAGGOT!?!?”
Seth (to friend): “Ray Lewis just called you a faggot. You’re not just gonna take that, are you?”
Ray turned around to say he was just fuckin’ with him after he shit his pants (Seth’s friend, not Ray Lewis).
Avoiding muscular murder suspects,
Still Standing Right Here…