Tuesday, November 10, 2009

My Nordic Fury

Day 4

I have often mused to myself that I was born in the wrong era.  I like to think that I would have been much more at home roaming the land wielding my massive sword and hammer fighting alongside my Nordic brothers as we conquered all in the name of great Odin.  I'm pretty sure that my name would have been Brookson the Destroyer of Worlds.  I would be known throughout the land as the tallest, biggest, fiercest warrior to have ever worn a horned cap, but instead I was born in modern America and all I have ever learned to wield is a Xbox controller and a keyboard.  The true glory of battle has eluded me my whole life.  I soon turned to sports in hopes of finding a cure for my inherited bloodlust, longing to find something that would slake my thirst for combat, my desire to see the wide-eyed horror of mine enemies before I smote them with all my Nordic might, and to allow me to gorge myself on the feast of victory.  One by one each sport failed to provide the thrill and challenge I craved.  Football (too controlled), Basketball (too soft) and Baseball (seriously, this one should be obvious) all left me craving more.  Until the glorious day that I discovered the one sport that gave me glorious battle that I desired:


For those of you who are unfamiliar with this glorious sport, allow me to provide you with some reference material




This is truly the greatest sport ever created on God's green earth.  It is the closest to true battle of any game I have ever seen before it.  You push, pull, dunk, grapple, smash, or, in my case, beast your way to victory.  The strongest, fastest, and most vicious warriors are rewarded for their efforts.  There is no greater joy than fighting your way towards the goal with three grown men trying with all their might to halt your steady march to victory, nor is there any glory greater than being the immovable force which brings thine enemies' progress to a screeching halt.  

In waterball, I can live out my destiny.  My blood boils at the sound of the first whistle of the game and I am transformed into a different kind of beast.  I am Brookson, Destroyer of Worlds.

Come check out our next game on Thursday at 10 its going to be an epic clash

Brooksie Baby

PS.  Wow guys you are making me feel really special I now have 10 followers.  I might even have what some would call a small audience of readers.  I promise to keep diligently working on my craft if you promise to keep reading and leaving your comments and criticisms.  Thank you to Jorday Jorday, Lukey Dukey, and Jonesy for your comments on the last entry.  So please subscribe and read and if you like it..... tell a friend.

Apparently this journey has inspired my roommate to embark on a mission of his own.  Check it out at http://bkingya.blogspot.com/

5 comments:

Kyndal said...

I really wish I was still there so I could come see you transform into Brookson, Destroyer of Worlds.

What's in a blog? said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jenny said...

I think I finally figured out how to "follow" you. I didn't even know I had an account. I learned something new today. My dad used to play waterball with Galaxy. He says they were the best.

Michael Chase Spain said...

Great post today. Didn't know you even played waterball...but it totally makes sense with your love of the Nordic fjords and all things Icelandic. I played once in intramurals and thought, for sure, I would die by asphyxiation. Once was enough for me. But you on the other hand, you hulking beast of Laviathanic proportions, are perfectly suited for such sports. Thanks for the post and great videos. Loved the soundtrack of Carmina Burana on the second video...very apocalyptic, much like your opponents must feel as they see you rise from the watery depths before them *shudders*.

Regarding your writing, this sentence needs to be trimmed, rewritten, and manually spell-checked: "There is no greater joy than fighting your way towards the goal with 3 grown men trying with all their might to stop your steady march to victory or being your teams last bastion of defense by being the immovable force against which your enemies smash against in there futile attempts to achieve victory."

Good stuff, brother. Keep 'um coming.

Michael

Brooksie Baby said...

fixed