Standing on the Shoals of Bethlehem with Autumn in My Heart

Peering from an elevation some centimeters in excess of six feet, I am accustomed to the tactics shorter folk use to address me. Most lean back, craning their neck to goggle upwards while straightening the shoulders. But I prefer those who simply gaze up with their eyes, refusing an obseisance of posture…as if it were I, not they, who were the more laughable eminence. It shows a most admirable pluck!

But then there are a few individuals with egg white in their veins and malice in their arteries who refuse to make eye contact at all, instead choosing to mutter insults under their breath from a safe distance. Such a fellow is this sports journalist whose name is comprised of initials most meaningful. Said rogue has a long-standing enmity against me, which I have long turned a deaf eye to…but now he claims that I defile the basketball gods? It is to laugh!
But while there are a plenitude of rejections I could apply to this scoundrel, it would only serve to dignify his crippled assertions. Virtue is the truest nobility, and doing good to base fellows is like throwing water into the sea. 

So to the aptly titled B.S., I state that private sin is not so prejudicial in this world as a public indecency. My pride is wounded, and I stand here, looking down at you with a basketball in my hand and autumn in my heart. May fungal spores multiply upon your foodstuffs! Good day.

Adición: Oh, and I found the remainder of your piece most entertaining!
Rudy foto from his selfsame Facebook page,
Guatemalan sinkhole by Luis Echeverria for AP,
Juan Carmichael going enloquecido from the SI Vault

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