Sunday, March 29, 2015

Cursing for Christ

It was recently revealed I coached the Baptist Student Union Intramural Football Team and primarily taught them how to cuss.

Thank you Jimmy Cochran!

It is true that we were the best group of cussing Christians ever assembled on the gridiron.

What Jimmy Cochran failed to report is we played for the Championship that year against I-Eta-Thigh from the Fraternity League.

"You missed a block," I told Edward Hinely.

"Hell no I didn't," he retorts.

"Hell Yeah you did," I press.

"Hell no I didn't," he continues.

That pretty much sums up my coaching style.

Regardless, we won games that year as though we were predestined.

We were God's team!

As we prepared for the College Championship game against the pagan Fraternity boys, Dr. Nathan Byrd, who oversaw the Baptist Student Union wisely decided to hold a special prayer service for us.

He knew we had become cocky cursers for Christ.

"The Byrd," as he was affectionately called by everyone ... well, except the football team who called him "Damn Good Byrd!" ... led by example and used few words.

A special prayer service where he isn't even present would remind us to be humble and thankful for the position we're in ... playing for the Championship ... with the possibility of the Lamb eating the Lion.

The time and date was set and hundreds of faithful believers arrived.

But the doors of the Baptist Student Union were locked ... because Mark Wood and Mitch Wesley who lived in the building ... and who's sole responsibility was locking and unlocking the doors ... had fallen asleep ... in the tradition of Peter, James and John who wouldn't stay awake for Jesus.

So the service never happened.

We got the shit beat out of us by the pagan Fraternity Boys.

But ... Mark and Mitch looked extremely ... rested.

The Byrd however was quite pleased because ... in spite of cursing for Christ ... we were the first team to play for the Championship ... so he calls me into his office to ask if I'll coach the BSU softball team.

I am humbled by the offer and ... nobody can tell the Byrd "No."

That's how I also became coach of "The Master Batters" ... with jerseys of a naked Cherub with wings ... wearing a baseball cap ... with a really long bat for a penis.

It was the last time I coached.

Ah ... you can't make this stuff up.