Friday, February 12, 2016

Let This Athletic Middle-Aged White Dad at a Child's Birthday Party School You in Pickup Basketball

Are you ready to be served? Or schooled? Or a combination of schooled and served? Or whatever the kids say these days? 

Good. Because that's what I came here to do. 

As Beyonce says, I did not come to play with you hos. Well, let me rephrase. I did come to play, but not with you hos. (Frankly, I'm not even sure what a "ho" is). I came to play with the other dads at this child's birthday party, which is currently being held at a local elementary school playground. 

And I am about to show all of you exactly how it's done in pickup basketball. Remember White Men Can't Jump? Great movie. I have it on DVD. I'm like Woody Harrelson in that movie. Total hustler.

Recall (or learn for the first time with deep awe and admiration), that I played varsity high school basketball and intramural basketball in college, and I know my way around the court. I can dribble circles around all these other less fit and able dads without breaking a sweat.

Note that I am 40, but fit. Fit at 40! It's got a nice ring to it. My cardiologist would be proud. Except I don't have a cardiologist because look at me: I am in sick shape. Sure I will need to ice my knee and groin after this, and might limp around for a bit (out of sight of course). For now, I am about to show you all that my game is level: expert. And I am going at this hard as fuck. 

Boom!

See what I just did there? I just posterized all the other dads at this birthday party! Do you know what posterized means? It's a basketball term meaning to embarrass someone usually while slamming the ball over them. It refers to the guy who's being dunked on in basketball posters.

That's me! I'm the Kobe Bryant to your Richard Jefferson. Wait wait, I'm just going to nothing-but-net swish this one last ball in from the three point line right now before the birthday cake comes out. Here comes my son. Son! Look how it's done. You too could be this amazing at basketball someday.

Let's take a break for a piece of cake. I'd like that slice with the rose on it, please. Then we can get back to the important task at hand: Proving to all these other middle-aged white dads (and anyone else who cares to take notice) that I am the epitome of masculine virility, i.e., the best middle-aged white dad ever to play pickup basketball at a child's birthday party.

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