#313 : BallBag’s Ball Beating

Our esteemed Patriarch actually managed to locate the correct destination, on the right day, and at the right time. Truly, a miracle for the ages. In his usual professional coaching persona, he put us through the expected drills; the only thing missing was a good planking. However, judging by the way some of the boys were handled on the court, they still left with enough bruises and sore spots to make a planking feel like a spa day.

Speaking of planking—and other physical exertions—news.com.au is reporting that men should be aiming for at least 21 “releases” a month to slash prostate cancer risk by 22%. Miscarriage made no bones about it, promptly announcing his departure to go work on his “prostate health.” Godspeed, you dedicated philanthropist.

The Awards Ceremony (or Lack Thereof)
Baah Sinister took home Best Player of the Night.

Our GM naturally secured Worst Player of the Night—consistency is key, after all.

Your humble scribe, Eno, nabbed Best Shots of the Night. Look, just ask any happy woman on the Gold Coast; Eno always delivers the best shots when the sun goes down.

Deep Thoughts and Deeper Balls
The core message from our coach tonight was simple: whatever we do, the aim is to make our balls go deeper. This is a philosophy we apparently embraced last week too. We even took a five-minute pause under the gondola to reminisce about the “beautiful sights” from the previous run. Baah Sinister was so enamoured he suggested tracking down whoever made that booking to see if they were “cuming” again. Honestly, the puns write themselves.

The Verdict
The night was ultimately salvaged by the spread provided by Ball Bag’s better half, though it was tragically onion-free. When our GM wasn’t busy showing off his ballet skills with some Pepe Le Spew pirouettes, he managed to bag a hat-trick. Not of goals, mind you, but of failing to organise a circle. That’s 3 for 3. At this rate, he’s giving Albo a run for his money in the “useless leader” stakes.

Special shout-outs to Tommy the Toucher—who showed up because there were no schoolkids around to bother during the holidays—and Arsenic, who filled the role of quasi-assistant coach and designated ball carrier.

Next Week
The Walking Dead are celebrating their 2,500th run. If you’re planning on supporting them, I’d suggest bringing a spare oxygen mask and perhaps some smelling salts. They might actually try to move faster than a tectonic plate for once.

We’ll see you there.

On On!