Well, I’ve done it again, you guys.  Made the Urban Dictionary AGAIN with my seductive use of the English language.  A couple hours ago I was screaming a catch phrase in the stands at da Bears game, then a few people pick it up, then the whole section is screaming it and then the point of my catch phrase, which I saw coming of course, decides the game.  And then it is on the Urban Dictionary.  The stuff of legend.

Some background.  Our boy Kool texted me on Thanksgiving eve and asked if I would want his tickets for the Bears game.  Of course I said goddamn right I would love your tickets for the game even though I am not a Bears fan in the slightest, nor a Titans fan (who is?), but always fun to go  to the game, so I’m in.  My daughter Hannah was with me at the time, and she had been left out of the Cubs playoffs and World Series games, so it was me and Hannah going to da Bears game with Kool’s tickets.

So Hannah and I head to Soldier Field and watch da Bears get their ass kicked most of the game.  I astutely notice that the big problem seems to be that da Bears receivers cannot, or will not, catch the damn ball.  So throughout the second half I’m yelling “A LOT OF GUYS CATCH THAT BALL” every time the receiver drops an easy catch, which was often.  Then in the fourth quarter, it got ridiculous, with the Bears receivers dropping catch after catch.  Everyone in the stands picks up my chant, so we are all yelling “A LOT OF GUYS CATCH THAT BALL.”  Da Bears then march down the field down 21-27, ready to win it with a touchdown, and the receivers drop two passes where “A LOT OF GUYS CATCH THAT BALL.”  The Urban Dictionary picks it up, and the rest is history.    

Bellamy might wanna hitchhike home. #CHIvsTEN pic.twitter.com/wgifCgQeDu

— Daniel Winnett (@StlWinn) November 27, 2016

Some more background.  My Uncle Bud was the best ball buster ever.  Uncle Bud was the oldest, most intimidating and most experienced brother in the family, and respected above all others.  No matter what you were doing or building, you wanted Uncle Bud’s approval and respect.  That respect did not come easily.  If you had his respect, I think, he would come out to see what you were building, whether it was a wall, or a barn, or a ditch, or a batting cage or a duck cage, or whatever.   But Uncle Bud’s appearance came at a price, because YOU WOULD BE JUDGED.

But Uncle Bud’s judgment wasn’t even really a judgment.  He would just tell you how “a lot of guys” would have done it.  For example, Uncle Bud would say “a lot of guys would attach hurricane straps to that post,” or “a lot of guys would use a  240 volt breaker box on that line,” or “a lot of guys would get a permit to do that.”  Whatever it was, Uncle Bud knew a better way to do it, and that a lot of guys agreed with him.  Guys we don’t know, but Uncle Bud knew them, and they had his approval.  If a lot of guys would do it, LIKE CATCH THE FUCKING BALL, it must be right.