Things FWG sucks at

The director of our modestly populated department volunteered our services in supplying the breakfast munchie-pastries for this Friday's monthly company town-hall meeting. 'No problemo,' thinks I. I was once in the habit of baking muffins - a different variety every week. I almost worked my way through an entire muffin recipe book. Surely I won't have lost the touch.

Thursday night is a write-off with Strat-o-matic playoffs so Wednesday after work I rush home, pack my lacrosse equipment bag in preparation for our inaugural practice/exhibition game this night, then dive into the kitchen to get the mandatory baking done. I pilfer Steve-o's flour, snatch up the recipe book and search for a variety that I just might have all the ingredients for.

Alas, this is all for nought as I discover I have no muffin pans. They must have went with the ex-darling upon the split.

No worries. There's a couple 8" x 8" baking pans present - the perfect pans for the production of pre-packaged porn bread. Oops. I mean corn bread.

[editor's note: We apologize for the preceding alliteration surprise-attack.]

The corn-bread mix is highly prepared. All I need do is add milk, an egg and blend. Laughable. Fool proof.

No. 1: Baking

Fool proof indeed. By the time rising smoke trails and burnt corners dictate withdrawal from the oven the beast has risen roughly half a centimetre.

[editor's note: one-quarter inch]

Dense and crispy though my accidental pancake may be, it endures a fair bit of nibbling over the next day and a half. The remainder (shown here) was thrown in the trash.



With no time to attempt an alternate product I grabbed the lacrosse bag and made for the home of Porn King, dear friend and regular lacrosse teammate. From there we rode in his giant red Ram to the arena. Not having conversed in some time, I regaled him with the tale of my drivers exam - until I spied something of an alarming nature and broke from the story:

"That's a red light, dude."

No reaction.

"Dude! Red light!"

"Huh? Oh."

"Um. You know you were supposed to stop back there, eh?"

"Sorry. I was listening to your story."

"I told you, red light."

"I know. I thought it was part of your story."

"Oh. Fair enough. So anyways..."

We made it to the arena without further incident and made acquaintance with the rest of this year's team. Somehow all of the league's premier troublemakers, goons and sociopaths were all drafted to the same team. What this says about Porn King and I, I dare not ponder.

Turns out our goalie (goalies draft and manage the teams in this league) was absent from the draft proceedings and the league convenor covered for him, taking no care to avoid said troublemakers, goons and sociopaths.

The silver lining is this: Such traits are generally common among the most skilled players of the lacrosse world and as such we have a very talented team which bodes well if we can stay out of the penalty box. Somehow we did on this night and we won our exhibition game handily. I had to skip a couple shifts while busy hyperventilating or nursing cramps but otherwise I played a decent game. This doesn't fit the theme - things I suck at, I realize. Sorry. Here. Let me compensate:

No. 2: Gardening

My spider plant - which very strangely has yet to inspire Steve-o to sing 'Spider plant, spider plant, friendly neighborhood spider plant...' has apparently suffered enough neglect that it has sprouted a thick flowery appendage that is reaching far through the air toward another potted plant that sits much closer to the window.



Now some say that great success can be born only from repeated failure. With that in mind I just may have inadvertently created a new breed of highly intelligent spider plant. It seems to be demonstrating astounding awareness of its environment and is deliberately attempting to re-pot itself in the pot of a specific neighbor. I've checked the beast for the presence of eyeballs and found none.

Thursday. The strat-o-matic playoffs begin. I'm matched up against Crazy Pat's Heyden Hawks for a quarter-final-round seven-game series.

No. 3: Strat-o-matic playoff coaching

I was fortunate enough to inherit a decent team upon joining this league eight years ago. Add some fortuitous trades and draft selections and I've enjoyed a fairly solid winning record overall. But in the playoffs I've entered seven series, being the favored team 6 of 7 times (with home-ice advantage) and won only two of them. Including the previous short-lived league I was in, I've ascended to the championship finals four times, been favored three of four times and lost all four times. Clearly it's my place in life to never win a cup.

After enjoying four wins and a tie in seven matches against the Hawks this year - I find myself - after 3 games in the playoff series - down three games to zero. Par for the course. Clearly this is not my forte.

I'm hoping all the luck I'm robbed of here will compensate when it comes time to try to get a novel published. That would be sweet. That would be worth it. Thank gawd there's no playoffs in the writing industry.

For the record, more things I suck at:

4. Obeying the speed limit
5. Walking upright
6. All areas of the romantic realm
7. Eating wisely
8. Basketball
9. Watching TV - usually end up hurling something at it within the first 15 minutes.
10. Music - couldn't play an instrument to save my life.

So there.

The list is far from complete by the way.

FWG