Last weekend I was invited to join my friend for a get-together at the Dakota Wizards vs. Los Angeles Defenders basketball game here in Bismarck.
There’s not much to say about the actual game, other than if you mix in a few beers as a spectator, a larger variety of behavior is apparently acceptable. (I only had Diet Coke.) At one point, player number 44 from the Defenders, whose last name was Clark, received a technical foul for “giving the business” to a Wizards player. From that point on, those around me would holler out the name “Clark!” whenever he had the ball, shot a free throw, entered or exited the game, or basically inhaled or exhaled oxygen.
“Claaaaark!”
“Claaaaaaaaark!!”
“Clarrrrrk!”
“You are going to get seriously pounded when this game is over,” I warned my friend, sliding lower in my sea.
“Are you embarrassed?”
“No,” I said, slumping lower and covering my face as the next round of Clark started.
Clark was a tall and muscular individual. A sufficient beat-down was entirely possible.
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I totally agree, the whole Clarrrk thing that night was a bit much. I don’t think boys every grow past Jr. High especially at Sporting Events!! It was nice to meet you that night and at least we got to be embarrised together!!