This column, the last I will write for The Pitt News, is dedicated to the memory of the… This column, the last I will write for The Pitt News, is dedicated to the memory of the sidewalk garbage can outside of Antoon’s on top of which Ryan and I housed our first $4.80 large cheese pizza in the fall of 2005.
Never forget.
If you remember.
– I think it’s only appropriate to share some of my more embarrassing sports stories, because hey, if you can’t laugh at yourself, right?
The first is in ninth grade, and at 5-foot-7 or so, not to mention a painful victim of the white man’s disease, I’ve obviously never dunked a basketball. So I get this idea like I could do an alley-oop if I just pull over one of the huge gym mats, have my friend throw me the ball as I jump off and slam it home. I pull the mat over, the pass is on point and I dunk it. Now, the problem is that I’ve never been up above a 10-foot rim before, and I kind of lose my balance as I hang on the rim and I let go at basically a 45-degree angle. I fall and break my tailbone.
The next was in 10th grade — I, a fresh, young and hopeful receiver on the varsity football team. On the roster, anyway. Well, we were on the road one week, and during pregame drills ‘- my time to shine ‘- we were catching long passes near a rowdy group of the other team’s fans. Now, mind you, the fans were paying attention and reacting to each pass dropped with a heavily mocking ‘Ohh!’ So it’s my turn, and I toe the line in my stance just as an older player runs back. He turns to me and says, ‘Catch it.’ I say not to worry. The quarterback says hut. I take off and see the ball high in the air. I range under it, piece of cake, and it hits me square in the facemask, caroms off about 10 feet and I tumble face first into the dirt. ‘OHHH!’
We won that game, and afterward I and about 10 others had to change outside in a hallway because the visiting locker room wasn’t big enough to fit the whole squad. ‘The spillover,’ it was referred to. As I humbly removed my pristine white jersey and shoulder pads, I heard the cheers and roars coming from inside the locker room. I looked around at the others. ‘You know,’ I said, ‘it’s times like these when I really feel like I’m a part of the team.’
– Sources are telling me I’m a stone-cold-lead-pipe lock to be a top-five pick in this year’s Amateur Sportswriter Draft. The only thing scouts are worried about is that I have ambitions to make money.
– I’ll say this: I don’t feel like I got my fill of themed parties at college, and at what age does throwing one go from ‘awesome’ to ‘weird?’ Does it? Please say no.
– Leaving school, I feel like Ray Liotta on trial at the end of ‘Goodfellas.’ What I’ll miss most is the lifestyle, where waking up at noon and lying on the couch until 7 p.m. is not at all deplorable by society. Our society, that is.
– I need help figuring out what is worse: that I had a dream about the Pirates, or that they lost 22-9 in the dream?
– I’ll predict some over-under marks for my four years here: 75 whole pizzas eaten (over, no question); $1,500 spent at 7-Eleven (um, under … maybe); 70 percent of class readings completed (if we’re not including ‘skimming’ or ‘looking over,’ then it’s way, way under); 90 percent of class assignments completed the night before (push).
– Things I’ve wondered: If anybody’s ever caught me talking to myself, which I frequently do; What it would be like to be famous; What my GPA would be if I studied as much as I should have (4.0, I’m sure of it); What my entrance/theme song would be if I were a cage fighter; If it’s at all weird to sing karaoke to female Irish pop groups; How many people can claim that they stood on top of the World Trade Center (I can).
– Final rankings (first place votes):
1. Tailgating (1) ‘- Not specifically in a parking lot.
2. Sophomore year ‘- Best overall year of college. Hands down.
3. Sports ‘- I like sports.
4. Peter’s Pub/Boomerang’s ‘- For collectively being Pitt’s ‘Cheers.’
5. Stewie ‘- For old time’s sake.
Also receiving votes: Matthew Perry.
Dropped from the rankings: Kenny Perry, Katy Perry, Perry Ellis, Perry Farrell, Will Ferrell, Colin Farrell, Colin Powell, colonoscopy … uh, OK, I’m done.
– Here: Pede, Ernie, Haddad, Herdman, Erin, Ross, Willy, AK and C-Log. Now shut up.
– I’ll shut up, too. But thank you to everyone who read the column this year and those who were kind enough to compliment me on it. (Sniff.)
E-mail Pat at pmitsch@gmail.com.
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