“Let’s dress more ridiculous than they do and still beat them, so there are NO excuses that their tie-die pantyhose were chaffing them and that’s why they lost. I hate dressing up though.” – Ryan J. Rock Logue
“Excuses.” Let’s talk about excuses for a moment. I think the entire Capital League can agree with us that the team who makes the most “excuses” regarding their own defeat is undeniably Relax. Teabaggers? Candy Van? The late Walk of Shame? Feel free to weigh in here, but we think you’ll be on board. Personally, I too am not excited to hear excuses about why this game was lost. Here’s my prediction. We come out, we put up a run or two on Relax, they start to freak out. We start to freak out. The put up a run or two but it doesn’t matter because we’ve already gotten some more. Jay will scream, Ryan’s dogs will be disgusting, and we will claim victory, maintaining our spotless undefeated record.
And then it will begin. Relax will talk about how they just went to the big boy tournament in Atlanta, and they are tired and sore. They will say that it’s just so hard to get up for an opponent like us after such great competition. They will complain that Dave is hurt and Clay didn’t show up. They will talk about how if the “true” Relax played us, there would have been no contest.
They will talk about what could have been and what should have been and what would have been, but at the end of the day, all we will know is what was. We will show up, we will black out, we will love each other, and we will destroy evil and take down the tyrannical late-dynasty that once was Relax and Let It Happen.
To the mere pawns of this team under Jay’s ruthless iron fist, we know you may hate yourselves, but we love you and all we want to do is show it. To you, we extend an invitation. Jeb, when you can no longer control yourself watching us have so much fun, come on over to our sideline for a swig of Fireball. Jenna, when Jay screams at you for the 47th time and the light begins to slip from your eyes, come by for a hug and a high five. Ty, don’t even listen to ‘em. You know we’ve got your #1 honey dip over on our sideline, and her sweet caress will heal your wounds at the night’s close. Clay, you’re not even going to show up, but we’ll save a VIP seat for you on our bench should you accept our gracious invitation to cheer for the good guys.
The good old days of the great Relax are gone, Jay, and you’re just going to have to accept that. We’re going to show up on Thursday night to prove it to you. Until then, we’ll be keeping it tight and bright. Goodnight, and God bless.