Its 11:36 on a Friday night. I just got done covering a high school basketball game that ended in a score of 101-28. Lucky I was covering the winning team. I get home pour myself I chilled glass of water because I gave up drinking for lent (fukn idiot) and try to bounce back after starting 0-3 with the Detroit Lions on my Madden 18 franchise. I’m playing the Minnesota Vikings in week four and had a solid 17-7 lead in the fourth quarter. Maybe four minutes to go. Then I get blinded side with the text of a century. My buddy asks me what I’m doing for the 12:35 gold curling match. I told him the only curling I’m doing is under a blanket in my bed. But he insists Pumba and I meet him at a new bar a few miles from our place. We do.
We get to the bar and they order some beers, I’m sticking with water and I know the waitress is judging the hell outta me. No one leaves a tip when they drink water at a bar. It’s hard to get excited for a sport you aren’t sure what the hell is going on. Why doesn’t that dude throwing the rock just ram the fuk outta Sweden’s rocks? Why does one team get the hammer? And what the hell is the hammer? WHY DO THE SWEDENS NOT SPEAK ENGLISH? I’M WATCHING THIS LIVE IN AMERICA! SHOW ME SUBTITLES OR SOMETHING! Sidenote: I think speaking in a different language is cheating. 100 percent sure that those Swed’s know english so they knew what Team USA was saying on the other hand Team USA had no idea what the Swed’s were saying no wonder they were +175. I ask my buddy questions throughout the night and I can tell his getting just pissed. He told me he knew the sport of curling. I told him I know the sport of cricket. They were both lies until he actually fukn knew the sports of curling. The only way to tell what was going on for me was to watch the athletes faces. Did they look mad? Did they smile? Did they not smile but point to their teammates?
The bar kicked us out because frankly 8 dudes and two chickas watching curling at 1:45 a.m. was a sad scene to watch. So me being 100 percent sober and responsible drove Pumba, my buddy and my lady, to my buddy’s house to finish watching the intense match. We got to his place at around the middle of the sixth period, frame, set??? The match was half way over. I grabbed everyone a beer and a few minutes later stiffed Pumba with a Jameson Sprite. He was feeling himself. The lady was getting tired but fought through a beer. Then the eight end rolled up and it was tighter then a North Dakota joint. Can’t let that cold air sep in the Carson Wentz kush. Team USA scored five points in the eighth and I couldn’t tell you how but this is how everyone responded.
I may have not celebrated like USA just won gold but I was excited. On the plus side I am going to heaven because I’ve been clean with my lent deal with God. No lying but not being tuned up for a curling match isn’t recommended. We finally got home around 3:30 after Pumba had many drinks and a few vapes and a victory sip of red wine and I went to bed. I literally climbed in bed, didn’t check Twitter, Insta or damplips. Ten minutes later I get dragged outta bed because I guess Pumba and the lady didn’t want to head to bed yet. So I turned on Madden, won a few games and played a little Wii until 5 a.m., and now just under six hours later I’m ending this goddamn blog because curling? Fukn curling made me stay up to 5 a.m.? CURLING! You right it did, I give everything for gold.
Also, this little man just bringing the heat and trolling Sweden with the “I believe that we will win” chant is cocky as hell.
CURLING IS COOL FOOL