Al Bundy and I played High School football......

He was much better at it than I, but my path was much more rewarding.

A quick diddy on Ed O'Neill and his football days. Of course we remember how proudly he would announce to anyone within earshot on Married With Children: "I played High School Football."

Ed O'Neill was, in his own right, a pretty darn decent football player for real. Ohio University for two years, and then on to Youngstown State. He tried out for the Pittsburgh Steelers in 1969, and actually stuck with the team until the final cutdown.

Shortly thereafter, he moved to Fort Lauderdale to work on his acting career, but he got a job at a ritzy hotel as a bell-hop to make ends meet. DAYS after he was cut, guess who came into Miami to play the Dolphins in the opening regular season game of the year? Uh huh, the Pittsburg Steelers. Guess where they stayed? Uh huh, same place Ed worked curbside. If you saw this clip on Letterman, this is old news... but he said it was his most humbling lifetime experience ever... toting the bags of the guys he'd lived with all summer... they, "up there"... he, "down there." Pride is hard to swallow but it will go down.

Hydrocele. A fancy name for one bigass testicle. I'd had it since birth - and it doesn't go away. If I heard correctly, it's some valve that doesn't close like it should, and there's water buildup in one testicle.

Eighth grade football, I ain't real sure what the doc made... but he "scanned" 53 of us within an hour's time. Turn your head and cough... Ok, next. Turn your head and cough... Ok next. We... those of us with no pubic hair, were shuttled thru the system in no time. I don't think anyone flunked.

Senior High School. Yes, my high school was a four-year school at the time. A REAL one-on-one physical with a physician to play football. Ok, no problem. "Ahm, Victor... you have a hydrocele... I can't let you play football... for that testicle is more susceptible to injury... and then with just one producing testicle, your fatherhood could be threatened." "AWWW Come on doc, how am I supposed to tell Betty Lou, Claudia, Teri and all o' them what you just said?"

So............ I got a jock one size too small, bolstered that puppy up there and ran cross country instead. "Ohhh yeah, I've always wanted to run cross country... I'll play football next year." (I actually finished 52nd one meet - outta 213, was quite proud of it.. came home and told my folks... after the "52nd part" they were like... "Ok, what's the resta the story?")

Sophomore year... same damn doctor... BlackBALLED again.....

Junior year.... uh huh....... again......

So... summer of Senior year..... I makes me an appointment with a legendary local doc that was truly in his last days of being a physician. (He also had a stepson who was All-Conference in football the year before... so he was a team kinda guy.)... Oh... I don't think this is too bigga risk... "Passed."

YES, YES, YES. I can play High School Football!

It was a wonderful Senior season... Our coach told us (all in the same year) "You are the BEST team I've ever coached"... and... You are the WORST team I've ever coached... I think we finished 7-4... I got coldcocked against Grandview once, literally didn't know where/who I was for about fifteen minutes. Coach asked me next series if I was Ok...... "sure"........ "Ok, then get back in there at Safety."
I turned to my best buddy..... "What's a Safety do?" Somehow I made it through.

Broken wrist about the 8th game.. .but that was cool... cause I gotta sit with the Pep Club.... they all knew "I played High School Football" so I lived the besta both worlds....

Then wife number one came. Then wife number one went. (eh, roughly six years)... then wife number two came... then wife number two went (eh, roughly twenty years)... and there I was...... Normal testi, BIG testi....

Dreaming that once again I would get married and again have sex, hehe, I pictured that moment... and how I would answer to "WHATINTHEHELL IS THAT?"

Ahm, it's a softball... I guess I forgot to take it outta my pants after the game...
No... that wouldn't work.. Howabout... 'well, I've had cramps, and it's a hot water bottle."................ Ok, "Dammit, I'VE GOTTA HYDROCELE."......"a WHAT?"...... A HYDROCELE." And all kinda visions ran thru my brain that would probably be running thru their brains... "Ahm, is that what like Magic Johnson has?"...... "Is it communicable?"

Soooooooooo....... on the 91st day of my employ with nice company where I finally gained great health insurance..... I decided to get that puppy cut on. ("Well, we can stick a needle in there and drain it... but it usually comes back.") No thank you. Put me out, cut the bastard.

I went to the urologist. His wimpy handshake kinda skeered me.. but dammit, I was gonna do this no matter.

Ya know... in betweengst all these years... I've literally been to four urologists... cause I guess it is/can be conducive to cancer.... Are you ready for how they check? Well... they turn all the damn lights out in the room... You pull your damn pants down... then they pull out this flashlight and place it up against your testi so it's the only thing illuminated in the whole damn room. True. Thankfully, they never found a tumor.

So...... I'm at the hospital... in walks the 'maybe-gay' urologist... I didn't care... Let's get on with it.... They slip that thingy over my nose... Next thing I know, I'm in waking up in recovery... eyes blurry, but opening a couple hours later. "HOLY SHIT" I recognize that lady!... Yes, you poor pitiful soul... hired on as the recovery room attendent was your very first internet date, Annette. Annette had never seen "Righty"... and that was too bad, 'cause she was very fine looking. Anyways... I lived thru that moment. "Ok Victor, I think you're Ok to go now... your son has the car outside waiting for you."

45 days later, back to the gay-urologist just to see how things are going.... After sitting for thirty minutes in the examining room, I'd read 3 two-year old Better Homes and Gardens, he finally walks in. "Ok, take your pants down." I mean shit, if I WOULDA been gay I think I woulda said "can we at least hug first?".......

There I am, against the far wall... righty and lefty out there for the world to see... He backs up... and backs up... to the opposite far wall... Puts both hands together, fingers up, thumbs touching each other as if he were a Life Magazine photographer.. and exclaims "PERFECT. THEY'RE PERFECT." Hehe, honest to goodness, it was sooo damn hard to keep from laughing. But, I reckon like all artists, admiration of one's job is a good thing.

If you've stumbled across this blog... you happen to be... oh, about 45-ish... rich, blonde, divorced... to see my "perfect testicles" please call 1-800-555-1212.