Ladies and Gentlemen, I Present to You

[THIS POST ORIGINALLY APPEARED ON LISTMAKER'S BLOG: Ladies and Gentlemen, I Present to You]

The first games of the brand new season will be this Saturday. The championship winning Coffee Flats Terrors have splintered. Those with an official shirt got to stay. Those who didn't were purged from the records like they never existed.

Thus, a new team. Returning Coffee Flatters include Jim, Mike, and me.

Bottom Row
Youthlarge - Dixie Toot: Can usually be found at the bar eating beer cheese until called into action. Left-handed. The "Tanner Boyle" of "If You Want My Bocce."

Listmaker - Hot Legs: Playing Style - Eddie Murray

Adam - Gettin' Hungry: Hungry not for pizza, nor for burgers. Nothing tastes as sweet as victory on the bocce court.

Middle Row
Mitch - Downtown Train: Please stand clear of the closing doors. This train rolls local AND express.

Alex - Lethal Dose of Love: Combining crude strength and European style, he knows no fear and is prone to brute acts of physical intimidation. He's also dead lucky.

Jim - The Balltrap: If your balls get near mine, there's no telling what might happen

Back Row
Dave - One Part Handbags to Two-and-a-Half Parts Gladrags: I would describe my playing style as "proto-futurist." Greatest accomplishment in the bocce arena-- making a 9-year-old boy cry in front of his parents.

Glen - Down the Gasoline Bocce: My bocce style I would say can be described as “Oops!” Pretty much sums it up.

Elizabeth - Oh God I Wish I Was Home Tonight: From the shores of Rhode Island comes the dexterous wrist action and subtle poise of Ms. Elizabeth B.

Mike - Reason to Believe: Enigma. My bocce style is - Unstoppable

Not Pictured
Skippy - Young Turk: Maybe I’ll show up once, maybe I won’t.

I was at Floyd last night getting in some last minute practicing. I noticed that the trophy Apes had broken at Celebration Night had finally been fixed and returned to its proper place of glory by the court.

The last we had seen the trophy, our team name had been misspelled.

Floyd was terribly embarrassed by this mistake and blamed the trophy maker. They insisted that they would have it fixed. And so they did, I suppose.

I was also happy to see that they had finally added The Coffee Flats picture to the row of championship photos. But upon further inspection, I noticed something quite disheartening.

That's right. Yours truly had been excised from the proceedings. That's me on the far left. You can almost see half of my face. At first, I was upset but then I realized that this made sense.

From the beginning of last season, things just didn't seem right. Cap'n Terror "inadvertently" dropped me from the e-mail list that included such essential information as: 1. The season had indeed started and 2. Who wants a shirt?

Without an official shirt, I was banished from the proud Terrors. But that is okay. I've got Rod Stewart and I know in my heart that I'm still a champion. Oh yeah, our first match with the Terrors will be Feb. 11. I'm not saying that you should come watch. But let me just say, if you don't, I'm not sure you can really call yourself a true fan of sport.