Little Happy Clouds

It was the prize of any young fellow's baseball card collection circa 1990. It was a rare, almost mythical specimen that combined two things that adolescent boys simply love: money and vulgarity. It was valuable and it was forbidden. It was quite simply, the perfect baseball card.

Though it may be difficult to understand in today's over-saturated and ultra-connected media landscape, where the images available instantly from a ten year old kid's click of the mouse could make even steely old timers blush, but there was a time not so long ago when the mere glance at a bad word could send otherwise decent and upstanding young men into fits of laughter. To get that on a baseball card, something so innocent and pristine, was almost unfathomable. Those truly were the days.

Billy Ripken wasn't much of a ballplayer. Though that may be unfair, simply because he played in the shadow of his hall of fame big brother Cal, a mythical figure in his own right. Poor Billy, good enough to be better than 98% of baseball players in the world, but never even close to the asshole in the bedroom next door. Well the jokes on you Cal, because for all the games played consecutively, and the fantastic numbers you posted in your illustrious career, there is and forever will be, only one Fuck Face.

Billy Ripken, Fuck Face for life.

The smokey, dark backroom is filled with the boisterous sounds of hubris and glory's past. Nearly every man at this card table is the greatest poker player that has ever lived, if you let the grizzled voices echoing off the cold concrete walls tell it. For as good as these enormous men are at their trade, professional wrestling, they are even better at owning a card table. All except for one, that is.

It is late, or early, depending on your disposition. The remaining three warriors hunched over the cracking old bar table are still holding out, resolute in their path to victory in this tense game of Texas hold 'em. Jake the Snake holds the big stack at the moment, but his lead is slim and shrinking rapidly. Hacksaw has caught a good run of cards, and seems extra confident in his chances. Dibiase is a cunning and skilled late game player, and has a sizable stack of his own. Snake knows his time for pulling this out is running short.

"Ya'll about to catch a USA sized ass whoopin'," Hacksaw proudly declares. "After I'm done whoopin' you on this card table I'm gonna get to whoopin' on your backside with my two-by-four."

"Like hell you are you redneck bastard," Dibiase responds. "This game is for money, and money is my game.  You are too stupid to beat me, and we know Snake can't roll cards for shit."

Jake meanwhile sits calmly, biding his time. After years of being an also-ran, or worse an outright loser in these games, Snake is ready for his moment. He has slow played his way into the final three, and with his dwindling chip stack he knows its about time to pounce. His strategy is dangerous, but it has been forged in the years of humiliation and pain suffered at the hands of men who beat him first on the mat, and then twice as bad at the table. The current hand is the perfect opportunity, as Dibiase and Hacksaw push their chips into the middle. The pair of aces sitting boldly in the community cards stares back at the three men.

"All in, chumps," Hacksaw declares. "Ya'll 'aint got the aces, no fucking way."

"You got it, asshole," Dibiase confidently fires back as he moves in. He then turns to Snake. "Hurry up and lose this Jake so the big boys can get to playing."

Snake calmly slides his stack into the middle, and flips his two cards over as he stands.

"See you jerks at the Rumble,"  Jake says as he grabs his leather jacket from the back of his chair and walks off. On the table remains his hand, a meaningless three of diamonds sits paired with his trump card, the Ace of Snakes.

Jake didn't win that hand, or the Royal Rumble the following weekend. But he won something more important that early morning. His pride.

(To the tune of Three Blind Mice)

Dee's Blind Flight, Dee's Blind Flight,
See how he soars, See how he soars,
The stage is set and you can hear the cries,
They want to see how the great one flies,
Did you ever see such a thing in your life,
As Dee's Blind Flight?

Dee's Blind Flight, Dee's Blind Flight,
See how he soars, See how he soars,
Kemp versus Dee, there will be no ties,
The greatest dunker wins as the other cries,
Did you ever see such a thing in your life,
As Dee's Blind Flight?

Dee's Blind Flight, Dee's Blind Flight,
See how he soars, See how he soars,
He jumps so high and then he covers his eyes,
He soars through the air to claim his prize,
Did you ever see such a thing in your life,
As Dee's Blind Flight?