The Great “2015 White Run Rasslin’ Confab”

RING ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the grudge match of the century here at the 2015 White Run Rasslin’ Confab.  In this corner, in grey trunks and white t-shirt, our reigning champion, 192 pounds of controlled fury, Barn Don!  And in the opposite corner, our challenger, Ace “I’m a Load of Gravel” Wheelbarrow.  And now over to our broadcast team, Hank Homestead and Bart Bunker.  Bart?

HANK HOMESTEAD: Well folks, this is a day that we’ve been anticipating for a while, as our champ is in the final stages of an eighteen month project to get the root cellar rebuilt.  He’s looking in fine shape, and the day has been cool with a steady drizzle.  It’ll be my delight to call the blow by blow on this match, but first let’s get a comment from or color analyst, Bartholomew Bunker.

BARTHOLOMEW BUNKER:  Yes, Hank, it is a perfect day for a heavy physical contest, just cool enough that you feel fine if you are moving around trading blows, and the steady drizzle makes this especially nice.

HANK:  The contestants seem well matched today, Bart.  How do you see the match unfolding?

BART:   Well Hank, as you know the champ is well experienced at rasslin’ with wheelbarrows, at last count he has successfully moved 23, 729 loads of dirt, compost, gravel, and his wife’s favorite birthday present, horse manure.  So the odds are with him today.

HANK:  Yes that’s true Bart, but this is tricky ground, the pile of gravel being right at the edge of the drop-off down the driveway.    Well the bell for the opening round of this eight load bout is just about ready to ring.  And here’s the bell.   ding-ding-ding  HOLY COW!  The champ is down!  The champ is down!  Did you see that one coming, Bart?

BART:  Sure didn’t, Hank.  Even before the ring of the bell faded, the challenger had thrown the champ down to the ground with a force I’ve never seen before in a North American Wheelbarrow Rasslin’ Association contest.  The match only last a half a second or so.  Hooo-eee.

BIFF:  It looked like Ace tipped a little, then torqued to the ground with the whole load of gravel, with the left handle catching the champ on his leg and throwing him down to the ground like a rag doll.  I mean, it was faster than Clay and Liston.


And that is how on Thursday I wound up laying in the mud, in the rain, with a broken hip.  The surgery to repair the fractured femur was over at about 2.30 AM Friday, and it has been all unicorns and Skittles ever since.