so last week i joined a kickball league.
i convinced my buddy to let me join his team at the last minute by saying i had "mad kickball skillz"
this may have been a slight exaggeration, being as i hadnt kicked any balls since grade school.
but i am quite mad, and i do have some experience kicking things,
namely: tires, hippies, rogue coffee tables, and "kickin it" in general.
anyway our first game was scheduled for tonight,
and i didnt want to make a complete ass of myself,
so i thought i might as well purchase a kickball and get some practice in over the weekend.
i went to three target superstores before i found a regulation kickball.
i promptly took it home, painted it black, and stenciled some skulls on it.
after all, i didnt spend the equivalent of about 160 mexican pesos,
so some toolbag could walk away with it.
well that didnt stop Conor Oberst, lead singer of the band Bright Eyes.
me and my ball went down to the Hollywood YMCA to get some practice in.
i found an empty soccer field and decided kicking into the goal would be my best bet,
in order to minimize ball chasing and maximize calibration of my kicking leg.
i set the ball down about 20ft away from the goal and took aim.
i took three steps, and let 'er rip.
much to my chagrin the ball missed the goal totally and sailed over some a small hedge,
and into the picnic area.
all i heard was the distinct sound of ball against face.
its a long time since i've heard that sound, but i wont soon forget it.
i rush over to the scene and find a very angry, red-faced Conor Oberst,
some spilled kool-aid and my black kick ball.
i apologized profusely,
and even offered to reimburse him for the kool-aid.
but there was no consoling mr. oberst.
the only thing left to do,
the only thing socially acceptable in such a situation,
was to dance fight.
the dance off lasted about 45 minutes,
until i could see Conors energy was waining.
thats when i suckered him in with my bset pop and lock,
then broke into an amazing 30 second one-handed handstand freeze.
Conor Oberst Got Served.
naturally he wasnt happy about this defeat,
but he had to accept it, and turned to leave.
i thought that was the end of it,
and went to the water fountain to rehydrate.
when i returned my practically brand new kickball (only one kick, one face) was gone.
i know Conor took it, because i asked the grounds keeper who was trimming the hedges, and saw the whole thing.
he specifically said that he saw Conor Oberst, of the band Bright Eyes,
hurriedly walking away with a black ball.
so in response, i created this blog,
because i dont know any other way to reach Conor.
i'm willing to chock it all up to post-break-dance-defeat hysteria,
and let bygones be bygones.
i just want my ball back man.
