Bird Streets Dispatch:

Sitting at home, watching The Office. Russ attempts to call me. My favorite show is on, so I don’t pick up. Russ shows some persistence and uses the underappreciated and little-used landline. I pick up on his urgency and decide to answer.

Our conversation goes as follows:

R: Are you watching this game?

P: Dude, no, The Office is on.

R: Switch over.

P: I can’t. I have Time Warner Cable. The NFL and Time Warner are currently locked in a battle to the death over the availability of the NFL Network. I can’t flip over.

R: Fair enough. You’re never going to believe what just happened.

P: Tell me, then. But hurry the fuck up, Michael Scott is wearing a bandana on his head and talking like the guitarist from the E Street Band.

R: Ok, Chad Johnson (or “Ocho Cinco” to those of you south of the border) just scored a touchdown. After dropping the ball, he went over to the goalpost, pulled out an artillery shell, set it down in the end zone, lit it, and the goddamn thing shot up and exploded. Or in other words: Chad Johnson just set off fireworks in the stadium as a part of a touchdown celebration.

P: Holy shit. Did he get ejected?

R: Yes, all the refs threw their flags at once and he got tossed.

I curse Time Warner for not giving me NFL access and then spend the next 15 minutes trying to find a video online. ESPN comes up empty. CNN comes up empty. And when YouTube proves fruitless, I realize that I’ve been had. The wool was pulled over my eyes. I was duped.

I decide to seek revenge two hours later.

P: Are you watching Sportscenter?

R: No, why?

P: Jeremy Roenick just scored a goal, went behind the bench, pulled out a Russian-made rocket with a monkey sitting inside, and shot it to the moon.

I don’t think he believed me.

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