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Out of the corner of her eye, looking beyond her American heart-throb Bachelor boyfriend Nate James, bachelorette Rachael Kirkconnell noticed an older and more distinguished-looking portly man with salt and pepper hair. He sat two rows above her in the stands during the Wake Forest vs. Army football game on Saturday.
She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. How could anyone? So self-assured, slapping high-fives overzealously with all his college pals standing near him, yelling and screaming uncontrollably. She was intrigued by how extremely emotional and comfortable he was boisterous and letting all of his unbridled feelings unfurl for everybody to see how he felt about his Wake Forest squad scoring 70 points to bump its record to a school best-ever 7 and 0.
Rachael couldn’t control herself so she stood up and stepped up one row of stands to meet this man.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Sammy Sportface,” said Sammy Sportface.
“You’re cute. How come you weren’t on the Bachelor show. I would’ve loved to have been a contestant on that show to make my case for wanting to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Who are you?” asked Sportface.
“I’m Rachael Kirkconnell. That’s Nate James, the guy two rows down who picked me to be his mate on the Bachelor show this year. He’s a great guy and I thought I wanted to marry him. But now I see you and I can’t take my gorgeous eyes off of you. What do you do?”
“I’m a sports blogger,” said Sportface. “I galvanize, inspire and amuse the Baby Boomer Brotherhood.”
“That’s so cool and original,” she says. “So you’re a writer. I’ve always been fascinated with writers. What do you write about?”
“Traffic jams at Army football games. Battles with cockroaches. Smoking weed. Falsehoods.”
“Oh that’s so fascinating.”
“Hey Rache, can you stand out of my way I need to see this play? Wake is about to score another touchdown to make it 70 points in 16 minutes of offensive possession.”
Next thing he knows Sportface can’t see any part of the field. Six-foot five-inch Nate James has gotten up and is standing behind Kirkconnell.
“Is this guy giving you a hard time?” he asks.
“Oh no, Matt. I wanted to talk to him. He’s a Wake Forest graduate like you but he’s also now a sports blogger who writes about smoking weed and stuff like that.”
“Hey Matt, do me a favor and step to the side. I need to see this play and you’re blocking my view. And while you move to the side, I want to ask you a question. How come when you were with Wake playing wide receiver you weren’t nearly as good as the two NFL receivers now and playing for Wake who are torching Army’s secondary.”
“Hey Sportface, you’re rude. How about we take this outside where I’ll kick your ass?”
Sportface grabs Kirkconnell by the hand and races down the stairs.
“Come on, babe, let’s get outta here.”
James chases the two down the stairs. But he gets tackled by Spars in what would have been a helmet-to-helmet shot if they were wearing helmets.
“Leave Sportface alone, Bachelor Boy,” said Spars. “He’s only stealing your girl for a while so he can write a blog about it tonight and send it out to the Baby Boomer Brotherhood. He needs more followers and clicks – no one reads his blog except a few guys. If he writes a blog saying he stole the Bachelor’s girlfriend at the Wake football game at Army, that’ll be great clickbait.”
“Who are you?” ask James.
“I’m Spars,” said Spars.
“Oh yea, you and Sportface do that podcast together, right?”
“We used to but Sportface decided to go his own way.”
“Then why are you tackling me to stop me from beating his ass for stealing my supermodel girlfriend?”
“Because I want to read his blog about this,” said Spars.
Outside the stadium, Sportface and Kirkconnell are seen dashing away from the stadium like elopers. Suspicious, two Army Cadets chase them down and ask why they’re in such a hurry.
“Because we need to beat the traffic home from this horrendous Army traffic trap,” said Sportface. “I’m taking this damsel to McDonald’s afterward for several Big Macs and then I’m going to my hotel to post a blog about this whole experience.”
“So you’re Sportface,” said the cadet. “Everybody in West Point reads you stuff. But it’s’ all on the sly. If we get caught reading Sportface, we’ll be expelled.”
Kirkconnell starts to realize that this elderly stud she’s infatuated with is not interested in her per se but only as a pawn in a blog story he plans to write to fill his own pockets with bank.
“Let go of my hand, Sportface,” she says. “I thought you were cute especially the way you gyrated while standing in the stands. But now I see this is all about you and your blog. You don’t love me. You love yourself and your blog.”
She races back into the stadium.
“Perfect,” says Sportface. “Now I can beat the traffic home and post a blog about all this. Gotta give props Spars for decking the Bachelor. He gets a co-byline on this blog.”
To be continued…
Author Profile
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Sammy Sportface, a sports blogger, galvanizes, inspires, and amuses The Baby Boomer Brotherhood. And you can learn about his vision and join this group's Facebook page here:
Sammy Sportface Has a Vision -- Check It Out
Sammy Sportface -- The Baby Boomer Brotherhood Blog -- Facebook Page
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