Playing basketball on hardwood feels good, especially if you're not wearing your Kung Fu shoes and tight-ass corduroy pants. Long story short, I wore my teammate's sneakers and shorts during the game.
No, he did not have to endure sprinting back and forth the court naked so that I may be spared from the same fate. He brought another pair. I cannot begin to imagine having that remote part of my body where the sun never shines dangle from left to right, or to and fro (whichever way they put it these days), while refusing to cower down all the while—and still be able to find myself leaving the court with dignity intact. Neither can I imagine others having their unfettered display of, well, boldness. But let's not even go there any further. That's stretching the imagination far enough.
I can't wait to play with the faculty this coming Sunday. I'm talking about having a convenient excuse to see some people in crutches on Monday. No mercy. Yes, my shit is bananas. Mwahahaha...
Another lesson learned.
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Suck it up good, bitches.