I was playing Josh once again.
His backhand was working well. He had a rock solid two-handed backhand. He would step in and rotate well. He also disguised his shot and I did not know if he would go down the line or go crosscourt.
On the changeover he was annoying. “Hey man you are playing well. But not well enough.” He smirked.
I said “You are hitting your backhand nicely.”
“What do you expect? My backhand is a beast. And I am a beast.” Words of wisdom from Josh. He truly was a master of humility.
I could not let Josh defeat me as he would post the victory to his Facebook wall. This is not acceptable to me. The public (a.k.a Josh’s 700 Facebook friends) must not know of my defeat at the hands of Josh.
Many people were walking by. I think it was almost mixed doubles time. There was a beautiful Indian woman passing by. She was well endowed. My concentration was lost. I wondered if her husband was her mixed doubles partner. Or perhaps it was a different man who was good at tennis. And maybe they saw each other sometimes. Maybe there was an affair. Maybe she was split between her tennis life and her personal life. Josh Ace’d me. Damn.
“Let’s Go!” Josh yelled out.
This is slipping away from me. I must focus.
I plant my feet and drive the ball. I hit to his forehand which is his weaker side and I get the unforced error from him. “VAMOS!” I yell. Deep in my mind I hope the lovely Indian lady hears my voice. Perhaps I could be the third man in her life.
I gotta keep my head in the game. I can not let Josh defeat me.
(END OF ENTRY, DJ ROBO BISCUIT)
P.S. Feel free to check out the “Noodle World” series on my blog (it is a satire with religion)
“The Boobs were just too much for me!”
That was what I was thinking. I was playing my match on court 7 and we had some spectators! Sometimes I was watching the spectators more than they were watching me.
We were having a heated battle on court. I was playing my arch-rival, Fred. I REALLY did not want to lose to Fred. I had a very strong feeling that if Fred were to defeat me he would take a photo and post it to Instagram and then he might also tag me on his Facebook. I could not let this happen.
He served. I returned. He hit his forehand. I stepped in and really nailed my backhand down-the-line. Fred let out a lame grunt “ugh!” and Fred missed. “Nice point ME!” I say in my head.
A beautiful lady walks by. She is wearing yoga pants and a blue top. There is a nice bounce to her. She has brown hair. I begin to imagine me and this sexy but unknown woman together. The ball flies past me. “ACE!” Yells Fred. Damnit. I have lost my focus.
One of the girls watching me as a spectator takes off her jacket. Her shirt is way too low cut and her nipple is making an appearance. “Damn this is distracting.” I think in my head. Meanwhile the match is occurring but I am totally out of sorts.
I get my head together and get myself back into the match. I get a little bit hot and begin to win more points. As I am getting my rhythm a group of ladies walk by. They are all wearing tennis clothes and had finished their match. There was a beautiful blonde girl with bouncing hair and short spandex pants. “Is this my future wife? Should I play mixed doubles with her? I wonder if we will have a family together?” My mind was racing but I had taken my eyes off the prize. ZING! The ball flies past me. “ACE!” yells Fred.
I was truly having a hard time focusing on court. I just kept on fantasizing about these beautiful women. It is so hard to focus on balls when you just love boobs so much.
(End of Entry, DJ ROBO BISCUIT)