lunch with lee(BIG BALLERS)

Today’s Menu: Give me a “B”

I was walking by my nephew Bo’s room and he was sitting there…wearing basketball shorts…head down. Normally, I would’ve kept walking; actually, I would have sped up. His room is like a war zone. A hazmat suit needs to be worn before entering. Today, he looked deep in thought. So much so, that against my better judgment, I paused.

“What’s going on?” I asked from the safety of the doorway. I was curious, after all, not stupid.

He just pointed to the tv screen and shook his head. ESPN was on…I’m thinking and…another guy just signed another ginormous contract. That’s par for the course.

“If only I was a couple inches taller”, he lamented. “That could’ve been me.”

A couple of inches taller? Are you kidding me? Really, Bo? How about skill…better yet; discipline? Which you lack…work ethic…which you’ve never heard of…but I digress.

But his woe is me attitude brings me to today’s topic…

Professional basketball and football players. They sign multi million dollar contracts. They own lavish estates. Their wives and girlfriends are some of the most beautiful women in the world. They drive exotic sports cars that most men can only dream about. Their buddies are movie stars and people in the music industry. What a life. Can’t get any better. But wait. Hold on. When they go to work. Unlike the rest of the Toms, Dicks and Bo’s…they have cheerleaders…beautiful, young, scantily clad women to cheer them on while they work…life just got even better. Let the choir say, “Amen, brother.”

Then…you have the world of the average Bo…

Mechanic: change that tire…change that tire…rah rah rah

Fry cook: flip that burger…flip that burger…if he can’t flip it, no one can…

Janitor: push that broom…push that —

You get the idea.

Us average Bo’s don’t get our own, personal cheer squad. Oh well; guess not everyone can be ‘the man’.

Rah rah rah. Sis boom…bah.