“YOU HAVE TO EVACUATE!!! WE HAVE A HOSTAGE SITUATION!!!”
When’s the last time you woke up to those words as a police officer was pounding on your front door? For me, the answer is last Tuesday. A shade of things to come.
I bought my condo a few years ago in what I thought was a pretty safe Tampa neighborhood, but I guess nothing is really all that safe anymore. Not the food we eat, not the friends we keep, not the music we listen to.
I’m just curious to know when Al-Qaeda moved into the Bay area and don’t they know interrupting my afternoon naps makes me unsettled? My beauty sleep is just as important as any political statement.
Gathering my things, I fled the scene single file as any good evacuee would. I made my way through the multitude of police cars that surrounded my apartment building where I ran into my trusty maintenance man.
I asked him for the scoop but even he was oblivious to the day’s events. He’s a wizard with a pocket wrench but not so good at picking apart a crime scene.
Then I started thinking, which one of my neighbors could actually be wacky enough to hold someone hostage?
Was it the Latin brother/sister combo who rev their motorcycle engines at six o’clock every morning? Was it my other neighbor who always leaves her dog locked indoors and her garbage locked out? Maybe it was the new portly couple who just moved in? Or perhaps the five Indian college students downstairs who pile themselves into a two-bedroom apartment? Detective SportsChump at your service. Just the facts, ma’am.
I felt like rushing to my local Blockbuster and picking up a copy of “The Negotiator” to help solve the crime, except… there are no more local Blockbusters.
Maybe the hostage-taker was pissed about his college basketball brackets being busted. Perhaps he’s a Pirates fan and can’t bear the thought of another losing season. Maybe he’s a Cavaliers fan still upset about LeBron. Or maybe he’s just miffed about the NFL strike.
Or maybe this had nothing to do with sports at all (How could that be?)
In the end, it wasn’t some crazed sports fan, nor was he holding anyone hostage. It was just some depressed guy who was contemplating suicide.
What does this have to do with sports, you ask?
Nothing, really. It’s just another unpredictable day in the life of SportsChump.
So what’s the moral of the story?
I guess that maybe we should all take the time to be a little more thankful for what we have: family, friends, life, health… and the fact that none of us are really Pirates fans anyway. Or maybe there are no morals at all.