JTTO Redemption and Liquor Store: A Lesson in Curing Frontrunning: Part 1
Jimmy thought things were great; he had a girlfriend, he had friends, but he was a liar. Jimmy had a deep, dark secret…Jimmy had committed an act that is so egregious in sport that usually ends in something violent and having to listen to Joe Buck and Troy Aikman every fucking Sunday. That’s right folks, Jimmy is a Cowboys, Rangers, and Heat fan. He thought it was harmless. After watching ESPN his entire life, he realized he’d never had a team to call his own, and it made him sad. Little Jimmy didn’t want to be sad. He wanted to be happy. He talked to his best buddy, Spencer, and asked him who he liked. Spencer was a frontrunner but had embraced this since he was a little guy. “Jimmy, I love whoever’s good at the time, and guess what? IT FEELS GOOD. It feels like going steady with a girl for the first time. It feels better than the first pool party of the summer where Jenn loses her top. JIMMY, IT FEELS GOOD. DO IT JIMMY, here’s what you do…”
That’s where our story gets murky, Jimmy hadn’t told Spencer that he was going to like the same teams, because damn it, Spencer was just cool. Sure, he’d had a hiccup over the summer where he forgot to tell his family he was going to play for another club soccer team even though his original team had made him a star, because he figured he’d tell them right before his parents had to sign the release form. That ended badly. It was pretty similar to that big deal on ESPN a few months back…Where was I? Oh right, so Jimmy made his Decision, and Spencer was right, it felt AMAZING. Turn on ESPN? BOOM. Favorite team guaranteed! National News? YES! You know what these teams had? Something Spencer called Swagger, and Jimmy became addicted to swagger. It fed him, it put him to sleep, it woke him up everyday and said “you know why your awesome? YOUR TEAMS ARE FUCKING AWESOME!” He couldn’t go wrong. He started using James, because that had so much more Swagger than fucking Jimmy. He traded in his old girlfriend for a cheerleader that put out, swapped his Levi’s and Camp shirts for Ed Hardy and Affliction. POWER. GIRLS. SWAGGER. SO HARD. He was living in the NOW, and alas, he hadn’t listened to Spencer’s entire presentation when he said the Frontrunner Mission Statement: you pick whoever’s good AT THE TIME. James was so caught up in the glitz and glamour of Swagger that he hadn’t paid attention to statistics, or schedules, or injuries, until earlier this morning.
“What a great day, I’m so fucking legit my swagger has fucking swagger! Where are my totally fucking brotastic Hardy jeans? Here we go, dude that’s fucking legit.” James looked in the mirror and did the Ab Flex. His idol on that shore about the east coast had taught him that one. “I’d fuck me. ‘MOM WHERES MY AFFLICTION SHIRT? NO THE RED ONE WITH THE GOTHIC THEME? NO, NOT THE RED ONE WITH THE SWORD, WITH THE SKULLS AND STUFF! OH I GOT IT NEVERMIND!’ ” He looked in the mirror again, put in another handful of hair gel, and came to a conclusion: “Damn, I’m pretty.” Life was good. He was the fucking man. He hopped in his totally lifted two wheel drive Ram with those Rock Star rims that he had to have because they were just fucking HARD. He turned the key, cranked up some LEGIT Drake because he’s SUCH A GENIUS GANGSTA MC OMGZ.
He pulled into the parking lot and his blood ran cold; something was amiss. Where was his bitch? And where were his side chicks? Where were his bros? They always parked in the same row on Fridays and sat there smoking Parliaments and slamming Four Loko’s because THAT’S WHAT WE DO. It was Faded Friday, it was tradition, they’d done it last week. Well it must have gotten TOTALLY LAME so whatevs. He looked around, and even the color guard losers were looking at him weird. They never looked at him because he was so motherfucking HARD. He flipped his Parliament to the ground, sprayed some AXE and swaggered into school.
He made it into class with just a few seconds to spare, because being early was so lame. People that didn’t like the best teams showed up early, because they didn’t have what James had. Losers without swagger. Looking around, he noticed that Bron was on the other side of the room, not looking at him. He walked over and tried to fistbump, but WTF OMGZ, he did not return said fistbump.
“What the fuck bro? You didn’t return the fistbump and what is that shit you’re wearing? You look like Peyton Manning but without the forehead.” James wanted to go all TAPOUT on Spencer’s ass for looking so fucking QUEER.
“Jimmy, this clothing is legitimate, it is much better than that drab I used to attire myself in”
“It’s James Bro, you know that”
“Well, about that, did you listen to my entire presentation on the Advantages of becoming a fan of currently successful franchises based on wins, attendance, net worth, television coverage and merchandise sales?”
“Dude, why are you talking like my fucking Dad? Yea, sure, I listened to your TOTALLY FUCKING LEGIT demo on frontrunnin’ aka HOW TO GET THAT STRANGE. POUND IT BRO!”
“I will politely decline your attempt at brotherhood.”
“Dude, did you score some of that PRIME BC bud, because you’re talking weird.”
“No Jimmy, I regret to inform you that my previous presentation was unfortunately, incorrect in almost every facet of said report”
“What the fuck are you saying?”
“I’m saying that frontrunnin’, as I so barbarically put it previously, is not the most successful tactic to attract the attention of attractive females in our age group or assist us in achieving premiere status in the upper echelon of social circles.”
“Dude, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“Jimmy, before I continue, I politely inquire as to whether you could possibly leave that absolutely horrid language for the lower classes of our economic system. We do, in fact, live in one of the most affluent subdivisions in the country.”
“What does Division II football have to do with GETTIN’ THAT PUSSAY?!?”
“To state it plainly Jimmy, frontrunning is ruining the human race. Studies are being conducted and early reports have reflected that the differences in fanbases is directly proportional to both wins and the ability to produce competitive teams in their respective sport”
“Wait wait wait, are you sayin’, nah fuck no, SWAGGER IS KILLING AMERICA?”
“A trite observation, but in your vernacular, yes, this entirely made-up attribute is in fact reducing both fan and media decisions to a handful of teams being deemed “watchable” by those who are entirely unprepared to make such decisions.”
“But BRO THOSE ARE OUR TEAMS MAN!”
“Jimmy, when’s the last time you sat down and watched a Rangers baseball game.”
“DUDE THEYRE THE FUCKING RANGERS. CLIFF LEE. BADASS. JOSH HAMILTON. RECOVERING DRUG ADDICT WHO IS THE RETURN TO GLORY TALE THAT AMERICA GORGES THEMSELVES ON. VLAD GUERRERO. NO FUCKING GLOVES. HOW FUCKING HARD IS THAT?!?”
“Jimmy, they’re down 2-0 in the 2010 World Series against the San Francisco Giants”
“oh, fuck.”
“Have you seen a Cowboys game lately?”
“NO NO NOT THEM TOO? NO FUCK MAN NOT AMERICAS TEAM. JERRY JONES SAID GOD LIKES THE FUCKING COWBOYS”
“Jimmy, it would appear that it may be that God enjoys having coitus with the Cowboys Super Bowl chances instead of rooting for the team that by all appearances are led by a direct descendant of Lucifer himself. The evidence is presented in the shattering of Mr. Romo’s clavicle, voiding Dallas’ chance at a victory in their home stadium.”
“WHAT ABOUT THE BEST FUCKING TEAM EVER IN BASKETBALL? BRON D WADE AND THAT OTHER GUY? OMGZ THEYRE SO FUCKING HARD”
“Jimmy, the Miami Heat are likely to go down in sport history as one of the worst ideas in the era of free agency as well as a case study in how not to construct an NBA roster, and will ultimately have wrecked the legacies of Pat Riley, LeBron James, Dwayne Wade, and Erik Spoelstra, although his legacy will be that he attempted to coach this abomination for six weeks until Riley sent him to a Siberian work camp. They will not achieve the unthinkable success they were expected of, unless Kevin Durant and Chris Paul choose to play for the league minimum, which they will politely decline, because the Miami Heat have joined the pantheon of Most Despised Teams, joining the aforementioned organizations, Notre Dame, Duke basketball, and whoever Lane Kiffin is coaching that given year.”
“WHAT ARE YOU SAYING BRO?”
“I’m saying, if you wish to see the light as I have, and realize that fandom is not defined by wins and losses, but by personal connections to sports organizations. Jimmy, I was a wreck. I liked the Yankees. I liked the Patriots. I liked the Red Sox, then the Rays, and most recently the Yankees again. Sure, I’ve had relations of a sexual nature with dozens of girls who thought I matched the current success of whatever team I was following, but the truth? I was dead inside Jimmy. Sure while I looked, as you so deftly stated “FUCKING HARD”, there was nothing in my heart. I’ve never been to Yankee Stadium, I’ve never been to the East Coast. I have no affection for any players on those teams, and when they lost in the ALCS this season, I felt no sadness. It was a nonevent. I went back to playing Call of Duty and hoping I’d hit the jackpot on ChatRoulette. After I made it to Prestige Level 10 again and saw the 50th Cockshot of the night, I cried Jimmy. I cried long, I cried hard, and I meditated. I attempted to seek guidance, so naturally I went to Google. I had heard a term called “Bandwagoning”, and so I searched. I found my guidance Jimmy, the way to sport redemption”
“Dude are you in a fucking cult?”
“No Jimmy, it’s called JTTO, and it is the light and it is good”
Jimmy was totally surprised at the change in Spencer’s behavior. His clothing had gone from Ed Hardy to Express, from Affliction to Armani. His speech had gone from demented to distinguished. But most shocking was the amount of FUCKING TRIM that huddled around him. They were hotter than anything he’d tagged in the last six weeks, except for that cougar he met at Starbucks. He fistbump’ed himself mentally, because that was GREAT HUSTLE. Could there be a better way to live? Could he be happier AND get more of that GRADE A SNATCH? It made him confused, it made him curious, it made Jimmy want to change.
“Spencer, could you uh, take me to a meeting sometime?”
“I’m glad you offered, because Kendra here was going to kidnap you at my request and take you to the seminar”
“DAMN GIRL WHASS YO NAME?!?”
“Jimmy, I would recommend against that type of dialogue with Ms. Killian. She is at the top of our academic class and will be attending Harvard in the fall with goals of curing cancer. She is also, as you always so appropriately put things, extremely attractive. It’s a horrible way to convince you, but she is JTTO’s liaison to idiots, no offense.”
“LOOK AT THAT ASS!”
“Jimmy, shut the fuck up. Kendra, please escort Jimmy to the JTTO Center for Redemption and Drive-Thru Liquor Store.”
So here it was, Day 1 of Jimmy’s attempt to change. He wanted to, and he was going to, FUCKING HARD.
