Bring the pain.
I don’t know what it is about guys, but one of our favorite games is to hurt one another. We start with wedgies, purple nurples, and noogies. Soon we move up to more organized pain giving games like dodgeball, punch buggy, or smear the [insert derogatory term here]. Sometimes weapons are involved like wiffle ball bats or jarts.
Even into college we continued the smack down amongst friends. During parties our favorite game was to sneak up on a buddy and give ‘em a little shot to the jaw. Of course, this got out of hand quickly and I went home for one Turkey day break with a fat lip and a black eye courtesy of my “boys.”
This brutal behavior seems to wain after college when we are required to grow-up. But we still hold that desire to give our fellow man a tow truck or peg him with a rubber ball. Nothing too harmful just a little poke for fun. This phenomenon is perhaps why the Jack Ass TV shows and movies are so successful.
This old urge was awakened within me on Friday evening. The family and I were at our neighborhood playground that happens to be right next to some tennis courts. In the courts were three dudes playing what looked like an awesome game.
One guy had a racket and a tennis ball and the other two dudes were lined up against a fence on the other side of the court. The guy with the racket would try and serve the ball and nail one of the two dudes against the fence. The fence guys would scoop up the served ball and wing it back at the dude with the racket.
Back and forth the game raged punctuated by the sound of tennis balls pounding into bodies. Sometimes a cry of pain or a grunt would emerge, but most likely the sound of giggles and laughter would emanate from the court. It was all I could do to restrain myself from running on the court and joining the carnage. Those days, of course, are far behind me.
Anyone want to play tennis?
Filed under: funny | 5 Comments
Tags: dodgeball, games, jarts, kids, noogies, punch buggy, purple nurples, wedgies, wiffle ball bats
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I remember an episode of my friends and I trying to punch each other in the groin for laughs. Needless to say, a truce was called very quickly. Worst game ever.
Yah, we tried that game for a little bit to. We also called a truce after a couple shots to the nads.
A tennis ball to the keester is minor league pain. Any of you boys up for a 9-month round of distending and distorting your body followed by forcing a cannonball-headed human out of your wooster? Now there’s some high quality hurtin’…
The ladies pretty much win in the pain category hands down.