Ladies and gentlemen and fans of all ages, we are at my favorite week of the year. The week where I pretend I have my dream job as a sportswriter and get to cover the biggest sporting event in the world! No, not the South Dakota 11B State Football Championship. We of course are talking about the Professional Football Championship. Now my lowly website is not credentialed yet, but next year we’ll be on radio row and be able to call it the Super B*wl.

Now if you are like me, you don’t have an NFL team to cheer for. That’s ok 30 of the other 32 people don’t have a dog in the fight either. So now we have a decision to make, who do we cheer for? Chiefs Kingdom, or Go Birds. I will break down the positives and negatives of each team, giving you a blueprint to find the team that’s right for you (and be your own boss).

Eagles

Fans-The only Eagles fan I know is my brother in law, and he is fine but not a “real” Birds fan. (not doubting his fanhood, he’s just not from Philly). Philly fans might be the worst in Sports, they hate everyone, they are loud, annoying, and have no class, I think I would fit right in. The issue is if I knew an actual real life Philly fan I think I would hate them, the good news is I don’t, so I can l enjoy the idea of Eagles fans.

Players I like: 

• Ndamukong Suh is my third favorite football player of all time and easily my favorite Husker. (1.Peyton, 2. Ed Reed) This will probably be his last-ish season in the league so it would be cool to see him get one more and go out on top. He might be the dirtiest player in the League but he’s mine so we have to like him.
• Dallas Goedert- Representing my fake alma and being a South Dakota Native what can’t this guy do?!?! Being from South Dakota it’s sometimes hard to relate to NFL players. Goedert however is very relatable because we both have been knocked out at the Zoo Bar in Aberdeen South Dakota.
• The Eagles have Two Offensive linemen I can name and I LOVE me some offensive line play.

Players I don’t like:

• Jalen Hurts is a fullback playing quarterback. A refined Tim Tebow who I never thought would make it in the league. He couldn’t pass at Alabama with all the weapons, why would he be able to pass in the NFL? Jalen I was wrong. I’m still not a fan, but I respect you.
• AJ Brown I don’t like wide receivers who I’m told are great but don’t put up great numbers. I don’t care who your quarterback is! Be better!

Kansas City

Fans- It didn’t take long for Kansas City fans to become the most insufferable in the NFL. You have the best QB I’ve ever seen and are going to be great for 10 years. Chiefs fans have this idea that everyone in the league thinks they are garbage. They are delusional. Just enjoy Pat and Andy, sit back, and enjoy the show (and act like you’ve been there before). 

Players I Like

• Patrick Mahomes – I want all great quarterbacks to win every year (except Tom Brady). Mahomes might be the best to ever do it when it’s all said and done. Dude throws like Aaron Rodgers, is as smart as Peyton Manning, and wins like Tom Brady! And to top it all off his father pitched for the Sioux Falls canaries! (Second best canary of all time next to Juan Thomas aka the large human)
• Nick Bolton- if you guys didn’t know I played high school football with Nick Bolton. I even started over him. It’s probably the most successful thing I’ve ever done. I don’t like to brag about it, I’m just happy to see an old high school buddy living his best life tearing it up in the NFL.
• Andy Reid- there’s something about a fat bald guy in a mustache that I like.

• 

• 

Players I don’t like

• Travis Kelce- he’s great but i’m seeing rumblings online that he’s the goat tight end. Gronk’s body is still warm. I know we have short memories in the internet era but this is a little crazy. Also Tavis Kelce had a dating show where the winner dated Travis Kelce, as a dedicated Bachelor fan I disavow all other tv dating shows.
• Chris Oladokun- Now is the practice squad qb going to get in the game? No. Reading this name you either don’t know who he is or you are shocked. “Eric, he’s a Jackrabbit shouldn’t you like him?” thought the reader. I should, however this man caused a cornucopia of pain in my father and my lives. He was a nice little filler QB between Gronowski seasons and had a decent showing with 25 TD’s and 7 INT. Those 7 INTS all came at what felt like the very worst time, so they count for double. You might think I’m being a hater, I am not. I hope this man makes it as a professional football player but it doesn’t change the fact he caused me stress watching college football (which is unforgivable).
• Patrick Mahomes wife and brother- they haven’t been as loud and annoying as they have been in the past but i know they are still out there.

• 

Conclusion: After weighing my options I’m sadly going to cheer for the Eagles. Best case scenario I’m hoping Suh gets another ring, reads the nice thing I wrote about him in this article and decides to co-host a podcast with me. Worst case scenario they interview Brittany Mahomes. So as long as we avoid that, it should be a great game.

“The first day of the rest of your life,” is usually when you decide to start living how YOU want to, as a changed, new person. Usually a positive change. However, for some of us, it’s the day where we begin to go crazy. For me it was the latter. 

Setting

Date: Wednesday, July 26, 2017

TIme: Approximately 8:30 pm

Location: Autumn Park Apartment Complex parking lot

On a beautiful Wednesday evening our favorite 24 year old (me) was carrying his laundry down from Room 313 (still saying forget the free world) to his Honda Accord parked outside the first floor. (I shouldn’t need to preface where the vehicle is parked. I think it’s implied that it’s on the first floor. There are no floating parking spots where I could comfortably park on the third floor.) As I (switching to first person) throw my laundry basket into the passenger seat and make my way around to the drivers side, something catches my eye. It wasn’t shiny like diamond or gold, but equally as valuable. A piece of beef jerky. A perfectly good piece of beef jerky.  Yes it had a bite taken out of it, but no one’s perfect. I mean even Steph Curry misses a free throw every once in a while. 

Now it had been instilled in my mind at a young age that beef jerky was a valuable item and not something you waste. (Please read about my traumatic third grade experience.) So my first thought is “This beef jerky deserves better, and I need to honor it by consuming it.” After my primal instincts died down, I was able to think more rationally like the college educated man that I am, so my second thought was “No good story ever starts with, ‘So I didn’t eat this piece of beef jerky that was lying on the ground.’ It’s dried meat. It’s clean, just dust it off, and it will be fine.” And finally, the totally depraved Dutch boy in me came through, and I had my final thought of “Where is my life going that I’m contemplating eating ground jerky?”

After much thought and bargaining, I made a deal with myself/God. The good Lord put this jerky here for me to either eat or to test me. So, the deal I made was if this beef jerky was still there when I got back, it was a sign that I should eat it, and if it’s not, it wasn’t meant to be.

I leave it laying there and drive off. I start to feel like Daniel Day Lewis screaming out “I’VE ABANDONED MY CHILD.” I try to forget about it, but it’s still in the back of my head. I get to the laundromat, aka my mothers house. (Eric, you are 24 years old and your mom still does your laundry? Bro, if you knew the age when my mom stopped doing my laundry, you’d never talk to me again.) I drop off my laundry and stay to chit chat with Gail and the Colonel. We’re talking and having a good time, but the thought of that beef jerky is consuming me. I find an excuse to leave so I can go back to see if my baby is still there. 

I normally am a very cautious and calm driver. I go the speed limit in town because usually where I’m going isn’t worth speeding. However, on this occasion I was going 5 over everywhere just to hurry back, hoping I would get the jerky before someone less deserving. As I drove past Yankton Trail Soccer Complex, my mouth was salivating. Nothing in my life had mattered up to this point and nothing would matter afterwards. The beef jerky was everything. 

As I pulled into the apartment complex, my heart was overjoyed to see that my original parking spot was still open. I pulled into the spot and opened my door, and there next to me was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, a piece of beef jerky. Then for the first time, I picked up the jerky and thought to myself, “So we’re really gonna do this, huh?” The answer was, “Yes,” as I looked around to make sure no one was watching the sick freak pick up the ground jerky. The coast was clear, so I brushed it off and placed it gently in my pocket and quietly went up to the third floor. 

There was still time to back out, but you and I both know that wasn’t going to happen. The only thing potentially in the way of me and my precious salty snack was a conversation with the roommate. As I opened the door, there was no John to be found, so I went to my room and pulled out my meat (the beef jerky, you sick freak). I didn’t hesitate, and took a bite out of the unbitten end. It was delicious! I almost ate the whole thing, leaving only the last inch from the previous owner’s bite mark. 

This isn’t a ‘and he lived happily ever after’ story. There was shame in what I did. I’m not proud, but it happened. I wrote 4 pages in my journal that night pondering where my life was going. In the span of 45 minutes, I had been tempted, fallen in love, and lost. (What I lost I’ll leave open to speculation. You’ll have to figure out the author’s original intent.) We can’t change who we are or what we’ve done, we can only continue to grow and live our best lives. Time marches on.

In January 2017 I was coming off the worst year of my life, and we were beginning the first rendition of new year new Eric. (We are currently in the third rendition, the second was “the year of Eric” which started Nov 2019 and ended the day the pandemic hit, very summer of George vibes.) With new year new Eric, we were looking for new opportunities to try new things! The first one that arose was when my friend Kristin asked me to join her at hot yoga.

Before we jump into the story, I need to give a little backstory on Kristin’s and my friendship. One time for her birthday, we went to a Stampede game (minor league hockey) where her brother and I (the two most interesting people there) had a little one night best friend bromance. Kristin loved this!  I think this was the fourth favorite day of her life, next to her wedding and the birth of her two children. Anyway, for years to follow, she’s been trying to create situations where Scott and I are in the same circle. 

So Kristin‘s brother, Scott, teaches a hot yoga class, and she thought it would be fun if I would go. Do you know what? New year, new Eric, why not? Let’s try it! If nothing else, it will be a good story, and in five years I can write a blog about it. 

So the first strike for this yoga class was that it started at 5:30 in the morning. Oh, my alarm goes off at 5:30 in the morning every day, and anything before 6:00 is miserable.  Having to get up 45 minutes before that and get my stuff ready for the day it’s just disgusting. 

So the second strike is not on yoga, it’s on me. It was a disgustingly early time in the morning, so my natural instinct is to drink coffee. It was only like half a cup to wake me up, but still, it was half a cup too much. 

The third strike (there’s like 15 more, we were playing a full game) is that I was wearing a long sleeved Nike dri-fit shirt. So, Kristin thinks I’m an idiot because of this. I disagree!  The moisture wicking technology keeps you cool, and normally I’m wearing this when it’s 95° and wearing jeans, so why would I get annoyed wearing a long sleeve T-shirt for an hour?   

All right, enough baseball talk. Let’s get onto a real sport like yoga. You have no clue how many white women you can pack into a yoga studio at 5:30 in the morning. Luckily, my friend Kristin saved me a spot, and I put my mat, my towel, and my Batman blender bottle down and was ready to go. What happened next is disputed, depending on who you ask. I say it was like 15 minutes. Kristin says it was like five. Regardless of the time, I was not feeling good. Shamefully, I walked through row after row of white women to the back and quickly headed to the bathroom. Good news: I made it into the bathroom. Bad news: I did not make it to the toilet and threw up on the floor of the first stall. I am now presented with a dilemma. Do I just leave everything that I own in the yoga studio, go home and never acknowledge the puke, never talk to Kristin again, and  possibly move to a different state? Sadly, my Dutch guilt got the best of me, and I went back into the yoga studio to get my towel to clean up my vomit. I didn’t clean it up as well as I could have, but I got the majority of it. I threw my towel in the trash and walked out. As I am walking out, the janitor walked in.  I have never been more terrified of a stranger yelling at me than that moment.  Like the idiot that I am, I didn’t take my water bottle with me the second time, so I had to go back into the studio. 

As I frantically gathered my things so I can get out of there before anyone realizes that I puked, I apologize to Kristen and say, “Sorry, this is not gonna work today.” She, having no knowledge that I just threw up, is adamant that I can stay and just do what I’m comfortable with. Nope. I’m going home, taking a hot shower, crawling back into bed, and calling in sick to work. 

End of story, right? Wrong! Today we spell redemption RIC! 

Five years later and after losing in Fantasy Football to Kristin, I had to pay my debt and go back to hot yoga.

This time I was one of 4 guys in the class! (Only one that didn’t take my shirt off; maybe when we lose those 30 lbs we can get these boobies out and flying around.) I made it 25 minutes before I realized this wasn’t my high school football team, and that if I half-assed it, I wouldn’t be letting anyone down but myself. I dogged it the next 20 minutes, took a 5 minute break outside to cool down, came back in, and basically sat on the floor like a sack of potatoes for 5 minutes before Kristin said I could be done. She took me into the hallway and gave me the greatest “I’m so proud of you speech” like I was a third grader who tried out for community theater, had one line, and didn’t even have a good delivery on it. 

And before you are like, “It’s hot yoga. How can it be that hard?” It’s hot yoga in name only. It is a cardio circuit with a downward dog in between each set.  

Moral of the story: Try something new! And if that new thing makes you vomit, try it again in 5 years.

Thursday June 17, 2021: your favorite author is watching game 6 of the NBA Eastern Conference Semi’s when he decides to hit send on this fire tweet:

If the Bucks make the NBA finals I’m going to a game and if I don’t one of my Twitter followers can punch me in the balls

— cow ƎRIC PUNT (@bteamballer) June 18, 2021

Now, this isn’t the first time I’ve used this strategy to make my Twitter followers hold me accountable with a nut shot. The other time it was to make sure I mowed my lawn, so these stakes are a little higher. Before you say anything about me being impulsive, I’ve been ready to go to an Old Milwaukee Bucks Finals for 3 years. The problem is the Bucks have not been ready. 

You’re wondering when I became a Bucks fan? When Giannis got really freaking good. We don’t cheer for teams in the NBA, we cheer for players. And Giannis is one of my boys and happens to play an hour away from my brother’s house. If I’m ever going to an NBA Finals Game, this is my chance. 

We’re getting ahead of ourselves. The Bucks hadn’t even made it out of the conference semi’s yet. Here is me describing every Bucks game and my corresponding hot takes in full detail for the next two weeks. 

JK. LOL. No one wants to hear me poorly describe sports, and definitely no one wants to hear my sports opinions. However, somehow thanks to Adam Silver, my beloved Bucks had punched their ticket to the NBA Finals. And I was prepared to get punched somewhere else.

With the Finals set, I check the schedule with hope that I can catch game two or three in Milwaukee on a Saturday: drive up Friday see my brother, say hi to the niblings, won’t miss any work. It’ll be great! Adam Silver looked me straight in the eyes with his butler in a haunted mansion look and said, “Nah B, game 3 is on Sunday.” 

“Eric, it’s on a Sunday, can’t you just go to the game and miss part of work on Monday?” Well, it’s not that easy. I took 2 days off a couple weeks earlier, and my boss makes it seem like taking time off in Summer is the worst sin one can commit. 

Okay so Milwaukee isn’t going to work, just give up right?  Wrong, there’s a direct flight from Sufu to Phoenix. Where are you going to stay? I’m going to inconvenience my best friend’s sister because he inconveniences me by trying to get people to go to his fundraiser. (September 12. I’ll pay you to go with me just so Andrew shuts up.) Let’s do this, baby!

I flew out late Saturday morning, only told 4 people on my volleyball team and my brother-in-law. My dad did not believe me when I sent a picture of the court to the family group chat.

I know someone is going to ask who I went to the game with. The answer is no one. I do 90% of the activities in my life on my own. I have no problem going to the NBA Finals game by myself. I have no doubt that I’ll make friends at the game. Plus the friends I have that can afford to go to the NBA Finals don’t want to, and the friends that would want to go can’t afford it. Schrodinger‘s Finals. It was briefly brought up to my one friend who fits both categories, but he said it was a lot of money. I took that as a no. Then he got mad when I told him I went to Game Five. Don’t be hesitant, kids.

One of my biggest dilemmas with the trip was what to wear. I’m a Milwaukee fan…okay, I pretend to be…I know deep down I’m going to cheer for the Bucks, but I also don’t want to get the crap beat out of me by a Suns-in-Four guy, so I made a business decision to wear my Penny Hardaway jersey. I like Chris Paul and Devin Booker, so I have no problem faking being a Suns fan.

A smaller dilemma: I’m going to be in Phoenix for less than 24 hours. Do I even need to bring a bag? I thought I’d look suspicious without one so I threw a change of underwear and a drawstring bag and called it good. My best friends Catie and Derek picked me up from the airport and we got lunch at this cute lil brewery and I hopped on the train and was off to the game!

There were people protesting the dairy industry outside of the stadium. I’m not an expert, but I think they would have better results doing that in Wisconsin rather than Arizona. Their boss probably wouldn’t let them off for Game Three either.

Only for a moment was I filled with trepidation. The bad part is it was getting into the game. Here  is a screenshot of my digital ticket. Notice anything weird? There’s no barcode or anything. I thought I was getting scammed when I bought it. Thankfully I got in…somehow. 

As you can tell by my seat ticket I’m in the upper deck. As I’m climbing I’m thinking there’s got to be like 20 rows up there so row 14 I’m towards the back half, but still pretty good. No, jokes on me: dead last row back against the wall. Bright side: I can see the whole court from here! I was just happy to be in the building.

I made friends with the guys sitting next to me. True Suns fans are just happy to be there. Here’s my favorite interaction of the night:

Jumbotron: (showing attractive people in the 100 level)

Me: Think there’s a chance we get on there?

Homeboy: Dude, are you serious?

Me:…

Homeboy: Haha, man I thought you were serious. Nah, Don’t get your hopes up. 

So my girl Vanessa Hudgens sang the national anthem. She did a great job. Homegirl still has pipes. I blacked out a little when she started singing. It was so good, one might say, I was living in my own world. For real if I was her, I’d start putting out music again…could be the start of something new.

I’m going to tweet this picture because my blog isn’t letting me post it. If you’re reading this on Twitter just read my blog. Did you know I have a blog? How do you know if I have a blog. Don’t worry I’ll tell you pic.twitter.com/oDkJMO3Ahr

— cow ƎRIC PUNT (@bteamballer) July 30, 2021

I know everyone hates my basketball opinion, so I’m only going to share four of my thoughts during the game.

1. Jae Crowder hit two three-pointers in the first five minutes. I was thinking, “This sucks. I’m going to have to watch my third least favorite player in NBA history (1. Kobe 2. DWade) have the game of his life in the NBA Finals.”
2. Chris Paul can see the whole court. Trust me, I would know, I was in the last row.
3. Phoenix was up 32 to 16 in the first quarter. I was thinking I was going to see the biggest blowout in Finals history. Thankfully the league is rigged and the Bucks shot lights out and played their way back in.
4. Devin Booker is really good. He dropped 40 like it was nothing. I was impressed. 

For my readers who don’t care about basketball, here’s a little tidbit. The Suns’ gorilla is the greatest mascot in sports. It is just a cheap gorilla costume. I could buy the same one on Amazon for 50 bucks. Also what does a gorilla have to do with the sun? Who knows. (Shrug Emoji) That’s like asking why a gorilla is under water in the first place. (They’re onto us, George.) [new record for the dumbest pop culture reference on the blog!]

Okay, so I’m burying the lede here. At halftime I went to take a second mortgage out on my house so I could get another beer in the concourse. As I’m waiting in line to pay for my overpriced beer, who is behind me? None other than Kendall Jenner. I about crapped my pants, I mean the hottest girl in the world who’s dating the second best player on the court is behind me in line getting a pretzel. I was trying to be smooth and brought up the fact that we use the same sunscreen and showed her my tweet. She awkwardly laughed and she actually paid for my beer, which was nice of her. I asked her for a picture and she courteously obliged.

I would like to debunk one theory. Giannis does not take more than 10 seconds to shoot a free throw. The Suns fans count really fast.

pic.twitter.com/GLklXgesLg

— cow ƎRIC PUNT (@bteamballer) July 30, 2021

The worst part of the game was not being able to cheer for the Bucks when they did good things. The Jrue Holiday strip alleyoop to Giannis will go down as one of the greatest plays in NBA history and I saw it live. And I was not allowed to cheer for it. It sucked. 

https://twitter.com/JustEsBaraheni/status/1416612949632880640

Besides the game itself, my highlight was a conversation waiting for a train outside the stadium after the game.

Dude comes up to me: “Bro is that a throwback Booker? That is so sick!” 

Me: “It’s actually a Penny Hardaway.” (Thumbs to name plate)

Dude: “That’s sick! That’s how I know you’re a real Suns fan!” (Slaps me on the shoulder like we’re best friends)

Me (internally) “Thanks, I bought it 5 years ago at a thrift shop in South Dakota.”

On the plane ride home, knowing it’s illegal to beat people up in an airport, I proudly supported my 2013 Nate Walters Bucks jersey. As I’m boarding the plane the flight attendant goes, “No you can’t wear that here. Sorry, you’ll have to get on a different flight.” I filed a complaint with Allegiant, and I now  have a $2000 voucher if anyone is looking to take a vacation.

A lot of people (more than one) asked me how much the ticket was and was it worth it? First off, rude. You don’t ask someone how much they make a year, so don’t ask how much they spent on NBA finals tickets. (More than $20 is the correct answer.) And to answer the second question: absolutely, it was worth it! I have watched every NBA Finals since I was 12. It’s my favorite sporting event and I had an opportunity to go. Heck yeah, it was worth it. And it sure beats getting punched in the nuts.

My friends, over the past two weeks it has been above 90 every day in the wonderful town of Sioux Falls.  It has been miserable, and, I cannot stress this enough, you need to stay hydrated! 

(Seamless transition) Speaking of staying hydrated, would you like to hear a story about drinking water?

Spoiler alert:  We’re talking about bodily functions here.  As J-Schram would say, “This isn’t private school appropriate.”  You have been warned! 

Every couple years I need to do something adult to remind myself that I’m a grown man and make my parents proud of me. Obviously the big one was buying a house, but that’s kind of like the pinnacle. I don’t really have a purpose for a second house, so I needed to get creative with ways to prove myself as an adult. Luckily, one of my friends and the greatest college athlete I know sold his soul and started selling life insurance.  I thought, “This is a great opportunity to see how much I’m worth dead.”  Jk, but it’s something that I guess I need because adults have it. 

I would plug homeboy’s insurance company right now, but he quit like two months after selling it to me. And the guy who runs my account now is also a friend from college, but he’s a total tool so he gets no love.

So I signed up for life insurance with a man for whom I once created a parody Twitter account about his hair.  Everything is going great.  I buy a $100,000 policy, and homeboy tells me, “I think that’s it.  Since it’s a small policy, we don’t have to do drug testing or anything.” Well, the joke’s on me.  Two weeks later he calls me and says, “Hey, you actually have to get drug tested.  Here’s the name of the testing company in Sioux Falls.” 

I wasn’t looking forward to the whole experience, mainly because I knew I’d have to take at least an hour after work for the whole fiasco. But it was actually pretty pleasant.  They didn’t call me to make an appointment.  They just texted me with days that would work.  They could do an appointment as late as 6:30, so I had to miss virtually zero minutes of work. Sanford Health, if you are reading this, just let me be able to text you when I’m coming into my doctor’s appointment.  This will make the experience so much more pleasant.

Monday, September 21, came.  It was the day of reckoning. I could go back on the internet and look up how hot it was in Sioux Falls that day, but that sounds like a lot of work.  So let me tell you, IT WAS HOT!  Way too hot for September.  If you told me it was 95 that day, I would believe you.  Now normally I do a pretty good job of staying hydrated during the workday, but I remember this day was uncharacteristically hot for September, and I was very dehydrated. 

I got home at about 6:00 and had an appointment five minutes from my house at 6:30.  It didn’t leave me as much time as I wanted to get ready, but sometimes we take what we can get.  The first thing I did the second I walked in the door was fill up my 28-ounce Batman blender bottle with ice cold water, and I chugged it like I was a 21-year-old with a Busch Light.  Immediately I had to pee.  My initial thought was, “I can hold this for 20 minutes and then just be right away at the testing place.”  I took about two steps, and my bladder said, “Sorry, buddy, you are peeing right now.”  I think all 28 ounces of the Batman cup went straight through me, and I had an empty bladder again.  I subbed out my shower beer for another 28 ounces of ice water so cold it’d make Wall Drug jealous.  I started to immediately worry that I was not gonna be able to pee again. 

Just as we must walk before we run, we must also make it to our appointment before we pee.  So I headed for Cherapa Place and hoped for a urinary miracle. 

After the fiasco of getting into the building after normal business hours, the person administering my exam informs me that I am the last appointment of the night, so “can we hurry up and get this done so I can go home.”  (She either lived in Beresford or Nebraska.  Either way, find a job closer to home than Sioux Falls.)

The first thing I say to her is, “Ma’am, I am severely dehydrated. Is there any way I can get a glass of water?”  She brings me a glass of water which I pound immediately.  She’s like, “Do you want more?”  And I reply, “I think it would be best if I had another.”  We quickly get through my height, weight, and her taking my blood.  Now the moment we’ve all been dreading. The urine test! 

She walked me down to the bathroom.  She hands me a cup and says, “Please fill this, and then use it to fill up these two vials.”  There is a drinking fountain right outside the bathroom, which I drink from for about two minutes straight before entering the bathroom.  I’m not feeling great, but I’ve got a ton of water in me right now, so I should be pretty good.  I go into the bathroom, go to the urinal, and think that nature is going to just take its course.  I’m gonna go to the urinal, pee, go home, and wait to validate I’m worth $100k dead.  And that’s all we’re gonna do.

 I stood there for about two minutes, and nature was not taking its course.

Do you know what?  Maybe I just didn’t have enough water in me, and so I walked out and got another drink for about two more minutes at the drinking fountain. The administrator makes a comment along the lines of, “Wow, you weren’t kidding about being dehydrated.”  I know that we don’t need to patronize my lack of ability to pee. 

I go back in for another 2 to 3 minutes of trying my hardest to just pee.  It’s at this point that my stage fright was starting to take over.  I normally can’t pee with someone watching, but this was like extreme stage fright.  I was holding up this lady from going home to her family all because I couldn’t pee.  That added pressure was not making this situation any better.  Now, I’ve done some pretty awful things in my life and have not always been a great person, but what happened next was the most shameful thing I’ve ever done…I walked out of the bathroom empty-handed a second time to get a drink. 

I apologized to the administrator again, but at this point it was no longer cute.  She gave me a look that could only be interpreted as, “Have you ever drank water before this moment? This isn’t funny anymore.” 

After three minutes of practically making out with the water fountain, I now had a gut ache from drinking half of the clean water in eastern South Dakota. I walked back into the bathroom where I would either walk out with a jar of my own piss (the one swear for the blog), or God would let me die on the second floor of the Cherapa Place building. 

I thought maybe I wasn’t relaxing enough, so I turned in my man card and tried sitting down.  That wasn’t helping much, so I kept brainstorming on ways to help me finally finish this task.  I thought maybe the sound of running water was all the encouragement I would need to finally fill this jar.  I listened to the sound of a babbling brook for about two minutes.  It doesn’t work.  A thunderstorm doesn’t work.  A roaring river doesn’t work.  All hope is lost. 

As I’m planning how I can escape this building through the air ducts and not have to face this woman a third time with an empty jar, my stomach starts to rumble.  I’m thinking, “Ok, if I poop, I’m going to pee, so this will be fine.  Everyone will be happy. It will be the weirdest pee in a jar story ever, but I’m the only one who knows about it so that’s fine.” 

As much as I’d like to say I took a normal poop and a pee to follow, that did not happen. Oh, it was just straight up water that came out of my butt. (sorry for being graphic) You have got to be kidding me. I just drank 2 gallons of water in 10 minutes, and I don’t even pee it out, it comes out my butt!  Who is in charge of this cruel joke? 

To add insult to injury, the proctor of the exam is now talking to somebody outside the door.  He asked her if she was still working, and she said, “Yes, this is the longest I’ve ever had to wait for someone’s urine test.”  At this point I am emotionally exhausted.  All I wanna do is cry and go home, but I know if I cry that’s taking even more water out of my body that could be urine so that is not an option. 

After what seemed like an eternity more, but was probably closer to four minutes, I finally was able to dribble out half an ounce of the brownest urine you’ve ever seen.  I walk over to the sink with my half an ounce of pee and ever so gently pour it into the vials and wash my hands.  Like an athlete that just lost a state championship, I walked out the bathroom with my head up and pride in what I had just accomplished, but shame because it did not go the way I wanted it to.  I hand her the two vials, apologize for what seemed like the 9,001st time, and go on my way.  She lets out a chuckle and says, “Well, I’ve never had to wait that long before. Have a good night.” 

So I’ve reached the part of the story where you want some cute conclusion, and I make a reference to something that happened earlier in the story.  Sorry, but that’s not here.  The only thing I can say is, “Please stay hydrated and don’t pee before your urine test.”

We are in for a mess of a blog post so buckle up. 

In October my sister asked me to write a blog post about her as a birthday present. She told me this the day of, and didn’t give me any time to come up with any stories. We postponed with the Jacklyn post to July or next October.  But the big guy’s birthday is today, and he’s a content machine, so we got the stories and we are ready to go!

My father, Alvin Punt, is my best friend. And besides that, he is also a grandfather, father, husband, and Colonel in the United States Air Force, but most importantly, he is the primary editor of bteamballer.com. If it wasn’t for him, my website would be an even bigger mess of words than it already is. So next time you see him, thank him for doing such a good job and wish him a belated happy birthday. We are not here to feed my fathers ego. He thinks highly enough of himself the way it is. So we’re going to knock him down a notch with my favorite story about my dad ever.   

November 2010 for my 18th birthday (hard to believe that was 10 years ago, lol i’m so old) my parents went above and beyond for my birthday present. They got me tickets to? A pass to go? I don’t know what the correct phrase to describe it is, but I got to go skydiving. The problem: you can’t skydive in November, so we had to wait. (This doesn’t add anything to the story, but I already wrote it so deal with it.) At this point in my life I only been in an airplane one time so I was uncomfortable with the idea of flying, let alone jumping out of an airplane. I was scared to death. Al, on the other hand, was pumped. Giddy as a school girl. 

The day came where we were going to make the jump. The skydiving people told us in the email all the rules, one of them being that they suggest we wear pants. Big Al said he wanted to wear shorts, so he could feel the air on his thicc boy calves and whatnot. We made the trip to Luverne, MN (Not to be confused with Luverne, ND, home of Taffy Lee Fubbins), where we got the rundown and eventually started the climb up to 10,000 feet where we would jump. I’m filling with more and more fear with every foot we ascend. We get the top and jump. I went first. As I’m free falling and seeing the tristate area rapidly get closer to my face, I thought to myself, “Why was I scared? This is the coolest thing I’ve ever done.” My tandem partner directs us to the landing area where we have a perfect landing with legs out in a sitting position, sliding on our butts. I hugged my mom and told her how much fun it was, and now we wait for my dad. 

A few minutes later we see Al and his tandem partner flying in. They’re getting closer and something doesn’t look right. My dad’s body is just dangling in the harness looking deader than every dead animal that ever died. Moments later we hear his tandem partner is shouting, “AL! PICK YOUR FEET UP!” Al was doing nothing that resembled picking his feet up. Again his partner shouts, “AL! PICK YOUR FEET UP!” Alvin lay there like a slug; it was his only defense. As they got closer and closer, rather than Al’s butt being the first thing to touchdown for a perfect landing, his knees were the first thing to touch down…his poor, poor exposed knees because he thought it would be cooler to wear shorts than pants. His knees were scraped up worse than a three year old who tripped on the pavement. He came to, got unbuckled from the harness, and then puked.  

The ride home was slightly awkward because you obviously want to address the passed out, puking elephant in the room, but you feel bad for the guy. I don’t think we even got to the South Dakota border before I started making fun of him.  I would feel bad for him, but he hyped himself up so much for this that he had it coming. 

I think I speak for all the readers at bteamballer when we say, happy birthday Al, we love you. You Dog!

And I apologize, but I still think that someday, ESPN is going to ask me to come write for them, so I do have to do a Super Bowl preview. 

Tampa Bay

Negatives: I really hope they lose. I don’t like Tom Brady at all. I hate to admit it and use this language, but Brady is the GOAT. Winning this title isn’t going to make his legacy any better, he’s already incredible. Just retire and go do rich people stuff, we’re all sick of you, Tom! They don’t have a lot of other players I like so there’s not much to cheer for. 

Positives: The only player I’d like to see win on the Bucs is my favorite Cornhusker Ndamukong Suh. I can only imagine winning a Super Bowl will be his second greatest accomplishment next to intercepting and running over Cody Hawkins for a touchdown in 2009. (I was at that game, 17-year-old Eric had never witnessed anything cooler.) I like Bruce Arians, so it would be nice to see him win one, but I don’t know if I want to see him win so badly that I have to see Brady win another one. 

Chiefs 

Negatives: Their fans are going to get real annoying real quick.  I get that you didn’t win anything forever, but don’t get all entitled. Bob, you have possibly the greatest football player ever under contract for ten years; enjoy it, but don’t get cocky. We don’t need a second Patriots fan base. I have a former coworker who was a Chiefs fan (we’ll call him Wendy’s 4 for 4 to protect his identity), and he hated me so I hope his football team loses. Also Patrick Maholmes wife, Britney, seems very annoying.  

Positives: Patrick Mahomes’s dad played for the Sioux Falls Canaries. (Second favorite Canarie all-time next to Juan Thomas AKA “The Large Human) Patrick is sponsored by Hy-Vee, so naturally I have to assume he has read my blog about Hy-Vee.  Andy Reid is just a likable guy. Patrick Mahomes is the most talented quarterback I’ve ever seen. He wins like Brady, and has the talent of Rodgers. I love seeing generational talents dominate, so I’m pro-Patrick. 

Prediction: 

24-20 Chiefs, my square hits once, Andy Reid retires and Eric Bienieny takes over as HC, and I make a really good batch of wings. 

As you may or may not know, by reading this particular blog post you have just added one dollar to the Eric’s Super Bowl Donation fund which this year is going to AsOne Ministries!

We are donating a dollar for every reader in honor of the Super Bowl. My Church normally does a fundraiser every Super Bowl, but due to the ongoing Coronavirus (and my built up resentment), I am not participating in Shalom’s Souper Bowl. However, we still want to give back in some way, so this is how we are rolling this year! 

If you would like to donate, you can as donate at this link:

https://asoneministries.kindful.com/

Tell them Eric sent you so I get the credit.

If we get over 200 readers, I’ll finally release the AsOne blog post that’s been in the chamber for a year. Bonus: If AsOne Gets over $200 in donations (from the readers), I’ll post next week (ambitious of me) telling the story of how I tragically was not able to defend my 2019 Shalom Souperbowl crown.

In spring of 2018 we had the proudest moment in bteamballer.com history by buying our office space! The office space is really just a TV tray in the living room, but with the office space, we also got a house. With this house came a terrible curse…no, not a spirit or specter, much worse. I had to find a new grocery store!  AHHHH, SCARY! 

“Eric, why don’t you just go to the grocery store that’s closest to you?” thought the reader. You think I don’t know that? You think I’m that dumb that I don’t realize just go to the closest one? The problem is I live right in the middle of the Hy-Vee Bermuda Triangle with 3 Hy-Vee’s all 1.5 miles away from my house. There is only one scientific way to solve this problem. We are going to arbitrarily rank all the Hy-Vees in the Sioux Falls area. 

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Honorable mention:  Aldi – I walked in once, looked for about two seconds, and walked right out. The idea of it scares me. It’s like a rogue grocery store. I am curious to find out how the quarter for the shopping cart works.

10th:  10th and Kiawanas – I’m going to be honest. I’ve been here once in my life. I got a slice of ‘za and a soda from here one lunch break, and it wasn’t great.  If you want to see what a Hy-Vee in the 90s looked like, this is your spot. 

9th:  26th and Marion Road – This Hy-Vee gives me anxiety. Sure, it’s a decent size Hy-Vee, but it seems so chaotic and unorganized. It’s just not for me, ok? It’s at my least favorite intersection in Sioux Falls, and I don’t like it. Bonus: They have Tesla charging stations here.

8th:  10th and Cleveland – I remember when this opened, and it was a big deal. It’s biggest negative is that the parking lot is a mess. It’s biggest positive is that my buddy Bruce works here on occasion.

7th:  The old Fareway by Planet Fitness – This Fareway had chili crispitos that rivaled those served for my favorite lunch throughout all of elementary and high school. You feel like absolute crap the next day, but boy do they taste good. Sadly this Fareway closed, and we never saw chili crispitos again. (My greatest autocorrect of all time was the words chili crispitos which autocorrected to Chris’s Speedos)

6th:  26th and Sycamore – The first grocery store I ever remember. When I first moved back to the east side, this was the one I went to initially. Two problems quickly came up. First, Mayor TenHaken decided to destroy 26th Street making me avoid everything east of my house. Secondly, there are way too many people I know at this Hy-Vee. It’s like the unofficial Hy-Vee of Sioux Falls Christian type people. I like going to the grocery store, but I want to be there in my own world listening to music, not talking to people I know.

5th:  Downtown Sunshine – I like the idea of it better than the practice. I couldn’t tell you the last time I actually was in the store, but I like that it’s there. My most vivid memory is walking through the bowels of the store to get to the bathroom in the back. It was like something out of a horror movie. The best part is the burger shack in the parking lot: a brat, chips and a 20-oz coke for $4. That’s a deal, my friends. 

4th:  57th and Cliff – Small, but efficient. It was better when it was a Sunshine, and even better than that when it was a leaf dump. 

3rd:  Andy’s Affiliated on 18th and Cleveland – I sing the praises of this store like I own it. 

Pros: 

• Closest grocery store to my house. Supporting local business. 
• The hometown atmosphere makes you happy.
• Open on Christmas morning. 
• Good meat.

Cons: 

• Not the best selection. 
• Sometimes it smells 

Before the pandemic I’d go here 3 times a week. Not as often now, but I still love it.

2nd:  South Minnesota Ave – The Minnesota Ave Hy-Vee is the New York Yankees of Sioux Falls Grocery Stores. It’s the biggest and best Hy-Vee, and outranks all other Hy-Vees in all categories. The only negative is that one morning the girl in the bakery grabbed the wrong donut, TWICE! I’m pointing through the glass at the donut I want.  She got it wrong! I didn’t want to correct her so I just took it. (It was a cherry cake donut. Not bad, but not the chocolate ring I wanted.) The reason the South Minnesota store isn’t the best store is because we are not a Yankees blog. (Gail would like it known that off the record the Minnesota Hy-Vee is her favorite grocery store in the world. However, to not offend her manager friend, on the record her favorite grocery store is the Fareway on 41st and Sycamore.)

1st:  The Empire – It’s hard to explain why one grocery store is better than the rest of the stores in the same chain, but this one is. It was my HyVee for only two short years, but they were the two best years of grocery buying of my life. I would buy my groceries at halftime of Sunday night football. Do you know how many people are in Hy-Vee on a Sunday night? None!!! It was glorious. The store was literally 2 minutes from my apartment. The only people I ever saw were the hot twins, who are without a doubt the coolest people that I’ve ever hung out with. The progression of the aisles just made sense. It was a great store. But, I now avoid Louise Ave like the plague (not the ongoing corona virus plague, the bubonic kind), so I’ll probably never go there again. Better to have loved and lost than to have never shopped at Hy-Vee at all.