The Best Sorts of Sports

      Now, I’ve always been into baseball.  In Japan, during the 7th inning stretch, everyone sings a song and then all at once let off these giant phallic-shaped balloons that whistle as they shoot into the air and then drop down on everyone.

      I went to Pete Rose’s 30th anniversary of beating Ty Cobb’s record down at All American Ballpark in my own hometown! And clapped so hard for so long that my hands literally went numb.  No, I wasn’t crying.  Don’t be absurd!
      And I remember in little league, I was up to bat but wasn’t paying attention and I had my head turned the other way, talking to someone. ‘Rob!  Look out!’  I turned my head just in time for the ball to hit me right in the teeth.  The last thing I remember is looking at my fingers covered in blood and then I collapsed at the plate.  No, I wasn’t crying.  Don’t be absurd!

      BUT.  It wasn’t until I was wintering down in Florida during my motorcycle journey that I learned something.  Had I known that there was such a thing as Figure 8 School Bus Racing, I think my life would’ve taken a much different route. (No pun intended.)

      There’s always been a special place in my heart for destruction.  And what is more destructive than school busses t-boning into each other!  Well, at least on a level which is possible for me to achieve anyway.
      Unfortunately, I didn’t get any pictures of the school busses crashing into each other.  I was too caught up in the moment and nearly dropped the camera when I would jump up in the excitement a child feels when they see something big and huge about to get totally f’ed up.