Casey's Just Sayin'

Excuse me, but what is your name? “Stacy.” Don’t make fun, don’t make fun, don’t make fun… Nice to meet you Stacy. Do you mind if I ask how old you are? “Fifteen.” One word at a time, sweet Jesus. Was he held back? Don’t ask. You might get him excited. Fifteen. OK. Well, I’m thirteen, and as you have no doubt noticed I haven’t gained a single ounce for the last two or three years. I’m what they call a late bloomer. Resist the urge to laugh at your own joke and pat him on the shoulder. Resist! I’m not effecting you at all right now, am I? Smile. That’s not a friendly smile. I’m not getting anywhere at all. I mean, you’ve got, what, forty pounds on me. You’re slow at shit, but… Every time I see that ball move it’s like I’m going against a brick wall. I don’t think I’ve pushed you back a step all night, let alone got around you to try and tackle someone. There is a quarterback back in there somewhere right? Smile gets wider. Teeth are shiny with the predator’s saliva. My knu...