An Open Letter...

To all high school Athletic Directors and Business Office workers,

Hi. How's the first season of your school year going? Hopefully well.

Let me start by apologizing. I realize that having 3 different addresses over the course of 5 school years is probably a little bit on the high side. I suppose that most of your sports officials are older people with stable lives and a constant home address, making me a bit of an anomaly.

With that being said, please believe me when I tell you that I am very sure of my home address, and I am confident that when I write it down, it is correct. There is no reason that you need to call me to confirm that the previously mentioned address is, in fact, my address. As I may have mentioned, I was the one who wrote it down. You can make the assumption that the address I wrote is the address I would prefer my checks to be delivered to.

What makes this whole endeavor especially frustrating is that I have taken steps to try to avoid this kind of nonsense. I have spent my entire life developing my penmanship to be easily legible to anyone with a basic amount of literacy. I also have even written "new address" next to my new address so that whoever looks at it will, hopefully, realize that it's a new address.

I would guess that the probability of another official matching my appearance AND having the same name AND officiating in western Mass is fairly low, if not zero. I also doubt that this mysterious twin of mine is out there officiating in my name and trying to steal my money.

As such, I am pleading with you: please send my checks to the address I give you. I promise you that this will not result in any issues.

Also, stop making me fill out new W-9 forms every year. Just because I've moved does not make me a new person. I didn't have to fill out a new tax form every year when I was a teacher, or a math tutor, or a professional craftsman (i.e. urn-maker0, or an ice cream scooping guy, so I shouldn't have to as an official.

Thanks!

-Jon

Some Random Thoughts from a Sick Slick

As I sit here, fighting off some sort of illness that is sure to claim my life (the sharp knife of a short life), I struggle through the pain of coughing up a bunch of gray-green shit in order to bring you a few thoughts hot of the presses from the printing press that is Slick's brain. Does that metaphor make any sense? Probably not, but read on to find out.

-What the fuck is the deal with one way underpasses? It's 2011, what kind of bullshit is that? Dedicated mmmmopinion reader Melissa and I were going to join Kathryn and Jon at the Amherst Brewing Company for some delicious beer and food. Jon has written several posts about that experience on the other sites of the mmmm franchise, but since I can't remember how to link things I'll just tell you to go there. Or maybe Jon will link them. But back to my fascinating tale, on our way we had to stop on one side of this underpass because it wasn't wide enough to allow two cars to pass through. That makes Slick grumpy. How hard is it widen an underpass? Without any knowledge on the subject, I can safely say that it's very easy. One way underpasses: fuck that noise.

-Hockey arenas should come with a third box (outside the normal 2 penalty boxes) where people can go and fight. Hockey fights are mostly two guys holding each other's shirts spinning in circles. If they really want to throw down fisticuffs, they should have a special area, maybe even an in-arena boxing ring, where they can do that. Yeah, maybe you won't be so willing to go sit in timeout for 5 minutes if you know there's a legit chance you could get your ass kicked. Also, hockey fights get broken up the second they get interesting. Guy gets his pads pulled over his head: fight broken up. Guy gets slammed to the ice: fight gets broken up. So what's the deal? You're allowed to punch one another unless someone might actually get hurt? Fuck that, you want to fight you better be prepared to bring the noise. Otherwise GTFO.

-What's the deal with cough medicine? Why is it so goddamn sticky? I felt like I was finger-blasting my medicine cup just trying to get a normal dose. Next time I'm just going to chug from the bottle.

-Who was the first sideline reporter and have they always been this useless? "Coach, your team gave up lots of points that half, how do you give up not as many points next half?" Thanks attractive woman who apparently couldn't be given anything more useful to do. And I can't fathom why you would put a guy or an ugly chick as your sideline reporter. The only thing they actually do is look good on camera, so why do Craig Sager and Pam Oliver have jobs? I bet young Pam Oliver was hot, but now you could probably play the football game on her forehead.

That's it for now. I'm sorry this wasn't funnier. I'm sick. Leave me alone.

-Slick