- Jul 9, 2016
- 4,810
- 3,549
Lol the first place that yall vacation and retire too.
the thread about nothing...
- Thread in 'General' Thread starter Started by Renaldo Balkman,
- Start date
- Jul 9, 2016
- 4,810
- 3,549
Name
- May 12, 2008
- 36,573
- 48,789
Yes. It makes the sport that more interesting when its a female track meet.Not complaining but do the cheeks have to be out ?
- May 12, 2008
- 36,573
- 48,789
Idk. Might just be a feature/attribute of the game.
- Jun 14, 2018
- 507
- 209
Last edited:
- Jun 7, 2014
- 43,510
- 66,215
I remember playing this on Xbox 360 with some friends. Was really fun. Playgrounds doesn't have the same arcade feelThey brought it back on ios not sure about android.
- Jun 14, 2018
- 507
- 209
I love the old nba jam with shaq on the Magic.
- Jul 1, 2016
- 6,072
- 12,780
what's kinda crazy to me about pro sports is that if nobody has your jersey, you can lose your job and become a regular anybody with just one bad day.
He dragged in a deep breath as he jogged onto the field, the thunder of 40,000 rabid fans totally smothered under the pounding of his heart in his helmet.
Through the grates of his facemask he took in the scene he had pictured all his life.
A trumpet blared from the bowels of the stadium as a cacophony of team colors in the stands blended into a backdrop. Television cameras surrounded the gridiron, broadcasting the game action to a global audience...and in this moment, our subject was at center stage.
Awaiting him there was a scenario he had gone over countless times in the backyard, after practice, in the parking lot behind the supermarket during breaks on the evening shift.
Seconds left in overtime, tie game. This was his time. This was his purpose.
This was everything...he was finally a pro football player.
Well, a kicker at least.
That’s what they always said, right? A kicker. Not a real player, the superstars who throw and catch, the unstoppable forces and immovable objects that rumble and crash like angry surf.
They called him a “specialist.” A cute way of saying you almost don’t even matter.
“They.” They weren’t there on those early mornings, kicking football after football, meticulously tuning his technique. Feeling that satisfying sweep of his leg as it followed through in that perfect path and the resonant thud as leather met leather at the ideal angle.
To be fair, he did specialize. He learned to accurately estimate wind speed and direction. Began to develop a sixth sense for humidity and temperature changes. Developed an innate sense of balance, application of force. Watched YouTube videos. So many YouTube videos.
Imagine his feeling of vindication as his studies paid off with a big league contract.
Finally.
Fine, so his second game as a pro didn’t exactly go as he envisioned…a couple of missed kicks weren’t the ideal start to a career where being off the mark just once could see you on the fast track to becoming a substitute gym teacher back at the high school.
Still, if he could just hit this one, his job would be safe for another week at least. Another 5-digit game check. Another week of adoration. Another week living the dream.
People only remember the end result, really.
He took his position behind the behemoths up front and cast a steely gaze at the goalposts--the window to salvation--just over 35 yards away. An easy shot. Definitely shorter than the ones he missed earlier. He had made thousands just like it.
He gave the signal and in slow motion the familiar ballet unfolded before him.
The pigskin spiralled in a straight line back to the holder, who trapped it, crisply planted it upon the turf, and turned its laces away from the fateful foot to present the most predictable kicking surface possible. It was time to pull the trigger.
With fists clenched to white knuckles, he recalled every moment of his training over the past decade, then pushed it from his conscious mind as he stepped through to decide the day.
His foot struck the ball, and it obediently lofted toward its target. The die was cast.
An arena fell silent with anticipation, giving him space to consider the years he had spent mastering this arcane craft. Showing Olympian resolve, he had worked tirelessly to become one of the the very best human beings on the planet at what he did. Earned national acclaim. A college scholarship. A job description most men could only fantasize about.
...and as the ball sailed just inches outside the upright, it all came to a bitter end.
Such is life sometimes.
He dragged in a deep breath as he jogged onto the field, the thunder of 40,000 rabid fans totally smothered under the pounding of his heart in his helmet.
Through the grates of his facemask he took in the scene he had pictured all his life.
A trumpet blared from the bowels of the stadium as a cacophony of team colors in the stands blended into a backdrop. Television cameras surrounded the gridiron, broadcasting the game action to a global audience...and in this moment, our subject was at center stage.
Awaiting him there was a scenario he had gone over countless times in the backyard, after practice, in the parking lot behind the supermarket during breaks on the evening shift.
Seconds left in overtime, tie game. This was his time. This was his purpose.
This was everything...he was finally a pro football player.
Well, a kicker at least.
That’s what they always said, right? A kicker. Not a real player, the superstars who throw and catch, the unstoppable forces and immovable objects that rumble and crash like angry surf.
They called him a “specialist.” A cute way of saying you almost don’t even matter.
“They.” They weren’t there on those early mornings, kicking football after football, meticulously tuning his technique. Feeling that satisfying sweep of his leg as it followed through in that perfect path and the resonant thud as leather met leather at the ideal angle.
To be fair, he did specialize. He learned to accurately estimate wind speed and direction. Began to develop a sixth sense for humidity and temperature changes. Developed an innate sense of balance, application of force. Watched YouTube videos. So many YouTube videos.
Imagine his feeling of vindication as his studies paid off with a big league contract.
Finally.
Fine, so his second game as a pro didn’t exactly go as he envisioned…a couple of missed kicks weren’t the ideal start to a career where being off the mark just once could see you on the fast track to becoming a substitute gym teacher back at the high school.
Still, if he could just hit this one, his job would be safe for another week at least. Another 5-digit game check. Another week of adoration. Another week living the dream.
People only remember the end result, really.
He took his position behind the behemoths up front and cast a steely gaze at the goalposts--the window to salvation--just over 35 yards away. An easy shot. Definitely shorter than the ones he missed earlier. He had made thousands just like it.
He gave the signal and in slow motion the familiar ballet unfolded before him.
The pigskin spiralled in a straight line back to the holder, who trapped it, crisply planted it upon the turf, and turned its laces away from the fateful foot to present the most predictable kicking surface possible. It was time to pull the trigger.
With fists clenched to white knuckles, he recalled every moment of his training over the past decade, then pushed it from his conscious mind as he stepped through to decide the day.
His foot struck the ball, and it obediently lofted toward its target. The die was cast.
An arena fell silent with anticipation, giving him space to consider the years he had spent mastering this arcane craft. Showing Olympian resolve, he had worked tirelessly to become one of the the very best human beings on the planet at what he did. Earned national acclaim. A college scholarship. A job description most men could only fantasize about.
...and as the ball sailed just inches outside the upright, it all came to a bitter end.
Such is life sometimes.
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6 Rings G.O.A.T.
Supporter
- Feb 11, 2006
- 144,293
- 131,777
Taco Tuesday
- May 12, 2008
- 36,573
- 48,789
- Jun 7, 2014
- 43,510
- 66,215
Lebron really needs to trim that beard
- Sep 28, 2003
- 28,263
- 12,630
National Cheeseburger day supersedes Taco Tuesday.
- Jan 7, 2015
- 7,297
- 8,077
Im surprised you don’t think National cheeseburger day is a conspiracy to get Americans to eat more red meat
6 Rings G.O.A.T.
Supporter
- Feb 11, 2006
- 144,293
- 131,777
- Sep 28, 2003
- 28,263
- 12,630
I do think these national food days were created by the food industry to boost sales. But I cannot care less, I partake in the ones I like.
6 Rings G.O.A.T.
Supporter
- Feb 11, 2006
- 144,293
- 131,777
- May 12, 2008
- 36,573
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Black Friday, Christmas etc falls under the same creation corporations creates to generate revenue for thier businesses.
But economists will tell you its called capitalism. No conspiracy here.
- Jan 7, 2015
- 7,297
- 8,077
I wouldn’t doubt it, I was just giving you a hard time
6 Rings G.O.A.T.
Supporter
- Feb 11, 2006
- 144,293
- 131,777
- Jun 14, 2018
- 507
- 209
So I seen a “lookalike”of my homies girlfriend the other day. My friend didn’t care he was pullin them. Later on She would appear at diff places “bus” even offered to sell a lil herb years ago lol I’m ok with the kiss on the cheek after I got my few dollars. For the bud she sold for me.
Last I heard she was LP at Target. she never said wassup,she seen me and it looked like she hated me. She was pretty tho. But that was the friends lady. I seen her on IG grown advertising for rent on a strip clubs IG lol
Last I heard she was LP at Target. she never said wassup,she seen me and it looked like she hated me. She was pretty tho. But that was the friends lady. I seen her on IG grown advertising for rent on a strip clubs IG lol
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- Jun 7, 2014
- 43,510
- 66,215
Classic movie
- May 12, 2008
- 36,573
- 48,789
- Jan 16, 2016
- 9,699
- 10,176
I usually can decipher what you're talking about but i got nothing beyond bits and pieces here.
- Jun 14, 2018
- 507
- 209
I know my bad. A lot of people that I don’t know that know ME stalk me here. Not really stalk but read what I write.
- May 12, 2008
- 36,573
- 48,789
