Song for Trump, tournament grief counseling

Larry Webster
Larry Webster

Tie Rod suspects that Slemp might have snuck and voted for Trump just to spite his lungs. Tie Rod is his own favorite singer and topping his current chart which he sings to himself the most is “Trump don’t ’low no lyin’ ’round here,” etc., and “We don’t care what Trump won’t ’low, gonna keep on lyin’ anyhow.”

He don’t want to sing that in public because it might start an argument on its flight path to a fight. He tries to stay away from people who the wronger they are the louder they get.

If Tie Rod were real sure we were going to invade Sweden — over whatever that was — he would join the Army. He has visions of liberating Stockholm, with blondes on the side of the road, each grateful, each beckoning him to liberate her, too.

But he has better things to do than think of Anita Ekberg. This is tournament time and Tie Rod is the assistant coach for the DUI School basketball team, with recruiting responsibilities. They are the Overflowing Bowlers. Their cheerleaders stand on the sideline and sway to “Ain’t gwine a do it no more.” These cheerleaders do not do pyramids, but try to walk a straight line saying the alphabet backwards.

Tuesday night, the Bowlers play the favored Drug Rehab team, the Illegal Smilers. Many are experienced shooters. Certain of them seem to have incredible energy. They play small ball, which may have to do with their average weight, which is 108 pounds. They have cheerleaders, who cannot remember what they are or what their teeth looked like.

The winners will have to face the Parenting Class Boys Team, who can play any night except every other weekend. And they have to pay to play. Their name is perhaps a bit ironic, but this bunch gets a lot of intellectuals. They are called Lesser Sex.

One of Tie Rod’s duties, if they keep winning and maybe go on to the regional, is to keep reminding his team during timeouts not to foul anybody on Anger Management’s squad, the Respondents, let alone a Flagrant I. This team will charge, foul and stomp a hole in the hardwood. Leave them be. Their cheerleaders are somewhere cowering.

The playing field is not level at tournament time. Tie Rod hates to see his beloved basketball ruined by private high schools. But in his league they have to contend with a private school called HAB. It seems somebody realized that all these people were going to Rehab, but none of them had ever been to hab in the first place. So a private company set up HAB, which has vague admission standards and is mainly where people in Tie Rod’s domain send their children when they are tired of their whining, or to play basketball.

The main thing you need around basketball tournament time is grief counseling, somebody to tell people that it’s just basketball.

Reach Larry Webster, a Pikeville attorney, at websterlawrencer@bellsouth.net.