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Three Occupations on the Planet Blue Blood
Will Jordan
Alien abduction isn't too bad. It happens much as it is described in science fiction magazines. While I was fast asleep, a space ship hovered noiselessly over my bedroom, and a beam of light came down and floated me into the ship. I was given a slick glossy tri-fold brochure which briefly described the society of the planet Blue Blood. It seems that the Blue Bloodians have achieved utopia. With a stress-free environment, the Blue Bloodians are free to pursue the really important things in life. The occupations of the people of the planet Blue Blood have evolved into only three: basketball player, basketball spectator, and basketball commentator.
"Fear not for I bring you tidings of great joy," said the alien. He was dressed in a three piece Italian suit. He wore no necktie, and his shirt collar was pulled over his jacket lapels exposing a heavy gold necklace. His hair was crow's-wing black, and he had on pointy-toed alligator shoes. He reminded me of Rick Pitino (Pitino is a former basketball coach for the University of Kentucky).
"What tidings might that be?" I asked.
"Because of your illustrious heritage, you have been chosen to be a basketball player in the Blue Blood society," Alien Rick informed me.
"What heritage are you talking about?" I wondered.
"You know, you're obviously related to Michael Jordan. While Michael's blood is a pale blue, your blood is a much darker blue. Your basketball skills should be much greater than his," Alien Rick said in his best sales pitch voice. He pushed a letter of commitment in front of me and dropped a fountain pen in my lap.
"That's because Michael is from North Carolina, and I'm from Kentucky, you idiot. We bleed our respective team colors. North Carolina's color is baby blue, and Kentucky's color is royal blue. I can't play basketball," I said with disgust.
"Oh, well, since you are here, how about trying out for the basketball spectator position? How are you on enthusiasm?" Alien Rick inquired.
"Not much on enthusiasm. What else do you have?" I questioned.
"There could be an opening for a basketball commentator. However, you have to be very sharp for that job. Do you want to take the test?" asked Rick. I nodded.
"What's a dish?' Rick snapped.
"One player passing the ball to another player within three feet of the goal," I snapped back.
"What's a run?" Rick fired again.
"One team outscoring their opponents by more than nine points," I said. I could tell that Rick was impressed with my mental acuity.
"String music, a board, a stuff-a-reno?" Rick fired in rapid succession.
"Making a basket and not hitting the rim, a rebound, dunking the ball, respectively," I said. I was really clicking now. Rick looked thoughtful. I knew that the next question would be important.
"What does it take to win?" he asked slowly.
"You have to come dressed to play," I shouted with confidence.
"If you answer one more question correctly, then the job is yours. What is a punch-over?" Rick said with a sly grin on his face. I felt panic welling up inside of me. I had never heard of this basketball term. I opened my mouth and blurted.
"A punch-over only occurs in football. There is no such occurrence in basketball."
The basketball gods were smiling on me that day. Alien Rick said that there had never been anyone before who had answered all of the questions correctly. He said that I had a bright future ahead of me as a basketball commentator for the planet Blue Blood. I surely will miss my family, but when you have an opportunity to really contribute in a meaningful way to this old universe, who wouldn't have made the same decision? Goodbye Earth, and hello planet Blue Blood!
Will Jordan
Alien abduction isn't too bad. It happens much as it is described in science fiction magazines. While I was fast asleep, a space ship hovered noiselessly over my bedroom, and a beam of light came down and floated me into the ship. I was given a slick glossy tri-fold brochure which briefly described the society of the planet Blue Blood. It seems that the Blue Bloodians have achieved utopia. With a stress-free environment, the Blue Bloodians are free to pursue the really important things in life. The occupations of the people of the planet Blue Blood have evolved into only three: basketball player, basketball spectator, and basketball commentator.
"Fear not for I bring you tidings of great joy," said the alien. He was dressed in a three piece Italian suit. He wore no necktie, and his shirt collar was pulled over his jacket lapels exposing a heavy gold necklace. His hair was crow's-wing black, and he had on pointy-toed alligator shoes. He reminded me of Rick Pitino (Pitino is a former basketball coach for the University of Kentucky).
"What tidings might that be?" I asked.
"Because of your illustrious heritage, you have been chosen to be a basketball player in the Blue Blood society," Alien Rick informed me.
"What heritage are you talking about?" I wondered.
"You know, you're obviously related to Michael Jordan. While Michael's blood is a pale blue, your blood is a much darker blue. Your basketball skills should be much greater than his," Alien Rick said in his best sales pitch voice. He pushed a letter of commitment in front of me and dropped a fountain pen in my lap.
"That's because Michael is from North Carolina, and I'm from Kentucky, you idiot. We bleed our respective team colors. North Carolina's color is baby blue, and Kentucky's color is royal blue. I can't play basketball," I said with disgust.
"Oh, well, since you are here, how about trying out for the basketball spectator position? How are you on enthusiasm?" Alien Rick inquired.
"Not much on enthusiasm. What else do you have?" I questioned.
"There could be an opening for a basketball commentator. However, you have to be very sharp for that job. Do you want to take the test?" asked Rick. I nodded.
"What's a dish?' Rick snapped.
"One player passing the ball to another player within three feet of the goal," I snapped back.
"What's a run?" Rick fired again.
"One team outscoring their opponents by more than nine points," I said. I could tell that Rick was impressed with my mental acuity.
"String music, a board, a stuff-a-reno?" Rick fired in rapid succession.
"Making a basket and not hitting the rim, a rebound, dunking the ball, respectively," I said. I was really clicking now. Rick looked thoughtful. I knew that the next question would be important.
"What does it take to win?" he asked slowly.
"You have to come dressed to play," I shouted with confidence.
"If you answer one more question correctly, then the job is yours. What is a punch-over?" Rick said with a sly grin on his face. I felt panic welling up inside of me. I had never heard of this basketball term. I opened my mouth and blurted.
"A punch-over only occurs in football. There is no such occurrence in basketball."
The basketball gods were smiling on me that day. Alien Rick said that there had never been anyone before who had answered all of the questions correctly. He said that I had a bright future ahead of me as a basketball commentator for the planet Blue Blood. I surely will miss my family, but when you have an opportunity to really contribute in a meaningful way to this old universe, who wouldn't have made the same decision? Goodbye Earth, and hello planet Blue Blood!