Dear dimwit on the phone

I just did a Jazz Band feature, complete with roster, for the School page.

 

Augusta Stallions?

 

I have a "hard-on" for indoor football. But a lot of that comes from being so closely knit to my team and their players for years. I love watching, covering it. I'm certainly in the minority, but it gets a bad rep for no reason.

 

Or as one of the reporters said, "I thought kids went out for band because they didn't want to play sports." Wonder how I'll live with the shame of costing all those kids a music scholarship.

 

I hate when people tell me what I should write in a column. I had it happen to me three times in one night a few months ago. Soooooooo, I wrote a column about how fans want to tell coaches and refs how to do their jobs with a lot of "read between the lines" stuff in there. It may be coincidence, but it seemingly worked for a while.

 

Dear state high school association,

I would absolutely love to cover your basketball all-star game this weekend, and it's great that you have the rosters on your website. If I may suggest, however, you would probably get a bigger crowd if you had some more info on there.
You know, like when and where the game is.
If you don't want to put it on the website, that's OK. But at least give it to your dingbat secretary, Bitchy McGee, so that when people call and ask about it she'll be able to give an answer instead of shuttling them off to an anonymous voicemail as quickly and rudely as possible so she can get back to playing Farmville.

Thanks,

Batman

 

She's on Farmville? Sweet, I have some pigs to try to sell her.

 

Maybe the most enjoyable beat I ever covered was an indoor football team. It was fun to watch, openly appreciated the coverage, and they gave me all the access I could ever want.

 

Dear crazed wrestling dad,
You're an idiot. Your accusations are baseless and unfounded. Please do us all a fucking favor and crawl back into the whole from whence you came.

KY

PS: I hope I used "whence" correctly.

 

Maybe the dad can use the whole hole.

 

Aw, shit.

 

At least you realize you are part of the problem.