Stuck on the Subway

Ah, Monday morning…but enough about that.

We’ve all been there: you’re driving somewhere (or perhaps…stuck on the subway), and are flipping through radio stations. Nothing on the airwaves matches your mood, and under your breath you complain about this new generation’s musical aesthetic.

Then you arrive at your trusted local sports station. One guy who sounds like your uncle talks to another guy with a charmingly gravely voice.

Now, this next part doesn’t happen every day, or even often, but when it does, you would be better for sticking around.

One of the hosts, probably the one with the uncle voice, starts getting worked up. His voice raises to a comical pitch and he lets fly. You can hear the gravely voice guy laughing in the background.

How did he forget his cleats!? Did he leave them on the bus? How many games has this guy played, he doesn’t have a routine or a system in place to make sure he has everything he needs?

Do you know what happened to me when I was in third grade and I left my lunchbox on the bus? My dad tied it to to me with string! I’d get to school and my teacher would have to cut it off me with scissors! Maybe his coach should tie his cleats to him with string!

He could walk off the bus in front of all the media, in his cool joggers and with his designer weekender bag on his shoulder, and then his cleats bouncing along behind him, tied to his beltloop with fifteen feet of twine.

Ranting aside, I’ve always been impressed with sports radio hosts’ ability to have a continuous conversation for hours on end. Now, I consider myself a talker, and in the right company and with the right amount of social lubrication, I can get going, too. But every day, for hours? Gotta hand it to them.