Well, I think it’s finally happened.
I think there’s a sports story that finally has left me speechless.
C’mon, you know better than that.
The following link is required reading if you’re a sports fan. To me it far surpasses Tyson’s ear bite in the weird but true category.
It’s more unbelievable than the Red Sox trading Babe Ruth.
It’s more stupid than those teams that passed on drafting Michael Jordan.
Before you read this article, here’s one word of wisdom and warning: Do not gaze into the Cyclops kitten’s eye on the left. Just don’t do it, you won’t be able to sleep tonight. But I digress.
Ok, let’s move on. A Romanian soccer team traded a player for 15kg of meat products!!!!!! Like you, I’m not quite sure how to do the conversion from Kilograms to pounds, but I do know that you probably NEVER want to be traded for any kind of meat products. Not any cut of steak, sausage (even with cheese already in it), no burger, fish, venison, cold cuts, or canned or jarred product. You don’t want jarred or canned because then you’re trading for container weight. But I’m getting off course.
The Average Joe sports fan for years has decried the pro athlete as a spoiled yet skilled person lucky enough to get paid huge sums of money for playing games for a living. Seems there’s some credence to the athlete’s claim that they’re treated like a piece of meat. Or pieces of meat. And no youngsters, that’s not an Ashlee Simpson tune.
The additionally hilarious part of this is the team expressing their dismay after the “athlete” retired, that not only had they lost a player, but their team’s provisions for a while.
You Frappers know that I don’t love me no soccer. Growing up in Oklahoma, I never remember an instance where me and the neighborhood dudes spent a summer day growing mullets, running around like maniacs, overreacting to “injuries”, winning 2 to 1, yelling GOAL! 37 times whenever someone scored, or getting the crud beat out of me if I reported to my parents that my team had lost that day. Call me a jerk (JERK!), but it just ain’t really American to me. Yeah, I know we just lost all three of our AYSO readers. Sorry, but you know we come with the truth in the Frappe. It’s why you now hear people say things like, “You don’t believe me? I’m telling you the Frappe, man!”
This is so awesome, I would consider moving to Romania if they had toilets inside their homes. That’s one childhood memory I don’t need to replay.
Plus, their favorite sport is soccer. Although it seems soccer is staring at the love of meat products in their rear view mirror quickly gaining on them.