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Real Men/Women of Genius #98 [No, that's not an error or misprint]

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  • The Troubadour
    [No, sports-and-other fans, we are very sad today to have to report a case of old-age, dementia, or fallout from last month s trip to Tennessee and its
    Message 1 of 1 , Aug 26, 2011
      [No, sports-and-other fans, we are very sad today to have to report a case
      of old-age, dementia, or fallout from last month's trip to Tennessee and its
      completely infamous Vol-State Road Rage--oops, I mean Road Race. By so
      sojourning, it came to pass that yours troubly apparently just couldn't
      COUNT the RM/WoG sequence from before he left till after he returned, so the
      archive showed some idiotic skippage from #97 to #99, which yours troubly Le
      Doof completely missed! So now, to make amends (if not to also set the
      Table of Contents to rights) and to bring us all up-to-date, we present
      another whacky RMOG which should've been dated a month ago. We are sorry
      for any cardinal or ordinal mathematical inconvenience this may have caused.
      In the words of my colleague Larry Gassan: "You may adjust."]

      Bud Light presents...


      {Re-al men of geeeeeene-yuss!}

      Today we salute you, Mr. Rural Weekly Newspaper Just Barely Reporting on
      Footraces Sportswriter.

      {"Theyyyyyyyyyy don't paaaaaaaaaaaaay me eeeee-nough!"}

      Not exactly the town's main attraction of Little League, the grammar school
      track meet, or your high school early football practice, is it? No. And if
      you can be cajoled off your sports desk and out of the newsroom at all, you
      really are only likely to write *one* paragraph about THE internationally
      renowned cross-Tennessee footrace now going on in your town.

      {"The shaaaaaaades are down; I cannnnnnnn't seeeeeee an-y-thing!"}

      "How far is that 500K race?" you're likely to ask. Or you'll come up with a
      few other inquisitively ingenious gems, like: "How long does that 24-hour
      race last?" "How many days out of the ten do those runners have to finish?"
      "Where is that finish on top of Castle Rock?" And the best one, usually:
      "Just how many miles are in this marathon anyway?"

      {Twennnnnnn-ty-six-point-two! But thisssssssssssss is an

      Puh-leeeeease. We realize nothing's changed since Jesse Owens shocked the
      Third Reich at the '36 Olympics, but would it kill you to do a little
      research into more recent history? Do you know the caliber of the runners
      about to race through your town? Could you possibly appreciate the effort
      it takes to run 314 miles entirely without a car? Would it kill you, maybe,
      to actually have to READ another paper's sports pages; like, say, The
      Nashville Tennessean? The Chicago Tribune? Or The New York Times??

      {"IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII am a wri-terr, not a reeeeeeead-err!!"}

      You might actually learn that the race was invented by a true ultrarunning
      legend, that the projected overall winner is in his 70s, that the first
      woman trains by running more miles in a week than those precious high school
      football stars of yours will run in their lifetimes, and that young racer
      from India has survived up to a fortnight in the steamy Asian jungle,
      stumbling along non-existent trails, living on weeds and wild berries and,
      oh yes, the uncooked flesh of all those King Cobras he's killed with just
      his bare hands.

      {"I thought Tarrrrrrrrrr-zan was jusssssssssssssssst in the mooooooo-vies?"}

      So crack open an ice-cold Bud Light, O Perry White of Metropolis's Daily
      Planet, because while you're snoozing frumpily all over your desk chair with
      the ball game in your ear from the iPod in your pocket, a whole 'nother
      sporting drama is parading right outside your window, replete with THE best
      damn long-distance runners this entire Planet (and not just your "Daily")
      has ever seen. Supermen? And Superwomen? Indeed!

      {Mis-terrrrrrrrrr Rur-alllllll Week-lyyyyy

      Bud Light beer: we don't care where they brew it, rural town or whatever;
      we just dig their commercials.

      ( O_O )

      Yours troubly,

      Rich Limacher
      "your 800-year-old lute-plucking sports song-and-dance man from France,
      where he used to write about jousting"
      (now on tab at http://www.runrace.net/).

      Check out this new outlet:


      Yankee Folly of The Day:
      Big party this weekend goin' down along the East Coast! Pass it on!!
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