I can’t explain it. They’re wearing tights. There are all those awkwardly uncomfortable motivational huddle speeches. Plus, I’ve got to be at work at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow. Despite it all, I am staying up. I’m staying up watching men’s gymnastics?
It’s 11:40 at night. I had a horrible Monday. It feels like it’s got to be Thursday already, and it’s not even close. Yet, here I am, perched on the couch unable to remove myself from the drama of the the U.S. Men’s gymnastics team battling the Chinese. I did not just write that sentence.
Please tell me some other red-blooded American male besides me is inexplicably remaining glued to the television. I don’t know what else to say. It must be the majestic voice of Al Trautwig. They keep telling me this can’t be happening. I can’t believe it’s happening either. “It” being the fact that I’m going to be up until 1230 a.m. watching men’s gymnastics.
Well, enough of all this, the U.S. is about to tackle the floor exercise! Pins and needles!!
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About the Author: Cecilio's Scribe is the founder of The Legend of Cecilio Guante and a generally pessimistic fan of the Mets, Jets, Knicks and Rangers. A fine NYC-based gentlemen who hones his marketing skills as his primary trade by day. Husband, chef, father of a newborn and after-hours blogger by night. Proud alum of the mighty Big Red of Cornell. University. Hot sauce devotee. Staunch protester of the continued wussifcation of American sports. Sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick.