Friday, January 28, 2011

Winter Sports and You: If "you" are the token fat kid

Looks like a trophy to me.
To a fat kid, there’s nothing more treacherous than winter sports.  Athletics are enough of an exertion without ice make an enemy of your own body, lunging you into comical displays of ineptitude.  While field hockey might make you look clumsy, ice hockey ensures you’ll go sliding at breakneck speed through a cluster of knotty pines.  It's like your mom said: "It's all fun and games until someone kills a Kennedy."

The only exception to this rule is sledding.  As one of the less strenuous winter activities, sledding is a sport in the same way that car racing claims to be: You won't sweat much, but if you don't know what you're doing you will wipe a bitch out.  Also, because of the added speed your weight brings, sledding is one of the few sports in which portliness is an asset.  (Incidentally, NASCAR's sponsors include an "official cheese-filled snack.")  Moreover, the sledding uniform of snow pants and mittens means your body will be virtually indistinguishable from those of your thinner, more agile peers.  With everyone dressed like an asshole, you can steamroll paths in the snow without a thought to self-consciousness.  Look at that!  A third similarity to NASCAR.

So while everyone else’s mom is making them hot Shredded Wheat, let dad sleep off the drunk and toast yourself some Pop-Tarts.  What the hell?  Go ahead and butter them like they were Bagel Bites.  After all, YOU are a winter warrior.

Until the snow tube pops.  That's definitely your fault, tubs.

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