Eat My Sports: Waiting until its over

For those of you who do not know, I currently live in Midlothian, VA. It’s a suburb of Richmond, so like most people around here, even though we don’t technically live in the city, we’re Richmonders. I’ve had a love/hate relationship with this city, but we are the proud home of Legend Beer, The Flying Squirrels, more tattoo parlors than you would ever know what to do with, and most recently, the Washington Redskins.

Now, please go back to Washington, Maryland or whatever combination of the two you have worked out.

Nothing against the Redskins, most of the people I know here are fans of the burgundy and gold. But ever since the Redskins’ training camp landed on Richmond about three weeks ago, I’ve been counting down the days until its over.

For those of you who have never had a training camp in your home, here’s what happens. A professional football team uplifts their entire training and coaching staff and players, takes them to a city that is not the one they play in, and hold up shop for a month in your city. This process disrupts everything from traffic, to parking, to hotel accommodations, to restaurants to radio programming to lately my sanity on social media.

Ever since the Redskins dropped in town, my Facebook and Twitter feeds have been a constant feed of some form of the following: “I said hi to Coach Shanahan today!!!” “RG3 looked at me during practice!” “I got an autograph from a practice team player!” This one act of a training camp has sent everyone I know into some sort of teenage-crush frenzy that has future out of work players seem like the hottest commodity ever. I need this to end for my own sanity.

I want to be able to drive downtown without having to wonder if an area has been blocked off for Redskins’ players. I want to be able to listen to The Herd on ESPN radio instead of the Redskins practice, but more importantly I want people to stop informing me that meeting Pat White is the equivalent of meeting Tom Cruise.

Richmond, home of the Washington Redskins.

No one ever suspects assassin grandpa

Stop us if you’ve heard this one before: an old man walks into an airport. Not as spry as he used to be, the old man requires a cane to aid his walking. Suddenly, he hops security and sinks the cane, actually a hidden blade, into a famous man who just happened to be walking by.

This was actually only half of the story of what happened at Dulles International Airport last week. An elderly man from out of the country did actually get into the airport, but was stopped by TSA when an X-ray revealed that it was actually a sword-cane, also known as the only cool thing that butlers use.

The geriatric claimed that he bought the cane at a flea market, not knowing that it was actually a sword-cane. Security confiscated the sword-cane and sent the man onto his flight. There’s no word yet if an assassination was prevented or not.

Kid stressed out? Scare it out of him

According to this baby's profile, work sucks, his husband doesn't appreciate him and Obama is antichrist.
According to this baby’s profile, work sucks, his husband doesn’t appreciate him and Obama is antichrist.

According to The Guys’ Facebook feed, many of our friends are now children, but with adult problems like work and pregnancy. That’s what we have to assume, anyway, based on your profile pictures. So, it was no surprise to us that kids’ tummy aches can be based on stress and indicate future anxiety disorders as adults. (Trust us, kids. We know your parents.)

Because keeping them home can cause kids to fall behind in schoolwork and social networking with peers, inducing further stress and exacerbating psychosomatic stomach pain, doctors now suggest the “suck it up” method: basically, kicking them out of the house with their lunch and suggesting they come back when they have our hangovers.

(This particular Guy’s father was ahead of his time and convinced 10-year-old me that I just had morning sickness and would feel fine by noon. This worked until the day I threw up at school and told the nurse that I would be fine “because it was just my morning sickness acting up.”)

But, if your child’s stomach aches persist — and doctors have ruled out a medical condition — just explain to them that if they don’t get their s**t together, they’ll develop an ulcer and die in their cubicle, alone, at work. That should calm ’em down.

Scurry to Canberra: Everything must go

Have you ever wanted to own a table where a nuclear pact between the U.S. and another country was signed? How about the brass toilet paper holder of a head of state? Maybe just some really cool office furniture?

Then get ready to open your wallets early, early Thursday morning. Australia’s Labor party is having an auction to fund the prime minister’s move to swankier new digs.

For just a few thousand Australian dollars, which we assume is like $10 U.S., you can have a chair that once supported the asses of President George W. Bush and Russian Prime Minister/President Vladimir Putin, and, if that’s not creepy enough for you, Vice President Dick Cheney sat there, too.