
Years ago, when I was younger, I played a lot of Four Wall
Handball. Still today I think that Handball was the greatest sport I ever tried
my hand(s) at (no pun intended).
I used to think, when I got old, I would take up
Racquetball. Handball player had a great dislike for Racquetball Players,
Racquetball Racquets and Racquetballs.
We felt this way because they appeared overnight from out of
nowhere. We played at the YMCA. There were only 2 courts but we never had a
problem getting a court reserved when we wanted to play. Once Racquetball
Players arrived on the scene there were so many of them that we had a hard time
getting a court reserved. They were very
good at beating us to the reservation desk and they got the time slots reserved
ahead of us.
To get right down to it, we also had no respect for their “sport”...
Ø The
Racquetball Racquet made their reach longer.
Ø With
this longer reach they did not have to run as much.
Ø Since
they did not have to run as much they were not in great shape as we knew we
were.
Ø Because
of their longer reach they did not have to go crashing into the walls as much
as we went crashing into walls.
Ø Because
they did not crash into walls like we did they never left blood on the walls
they did not crash into.
We thought why bother playing such a sport if you did not
get to experience the extreme pleasure of the excruciating pain you would
experience when you hit a ball wrong with your unprotected hand. (Actually it
hurt a lot even when you hit it correctly with your unprotected hand.)
Racquetball Players never banged or scraped their hands into
the wall trying to get to that impossible to get to shot from that lucky
opponent you were playing. (It was at moments like this when we developed an
extreme dislike for our opponents.)
Racquetball players never got the exhilaration of looking at
their hand after a match and seeing a whole bunch of black and blue bruises (Definition
of Bruises: Tender areas of skin discoloration caused by blood leaking from
blood vessels damaged by pressure or impact).
We just knew we were in better shape than they were,
we knew we would live longer than they would (This was a plus because,
when they started dying, we could then get our time slots back) and we knew
our bellies were flatter than their bellies were.
Regarding the 3 “knews” in the above paragraph...We Were, We
Would and They Were.
The Bottom Line
Before The Bottom...We Thought They Were Sissies.
************
Finally I am getting around to the Subject Title of this
Blog Posting... “This Is A Clear-Cut
Case Of Marketing Run Amuck!”
Back in California in the 1990s, long before I got old, I
did play some Racquetball. I succumbed because there were no Handball Players
in the gated community where I lived. I bought my own Racquetball Racquet and
it has been hanging in my garages ever since.
I held onto it all these years because of the Features Card
that came with the Racquet which told me of all the wonders of my Racquetball Racquet.
My Dear Readers, I now give you the Lying Promo Words that
came with my Dust Covered Hanging In My Garage Racquet...
Dare To Discover The Player You Could Be
Our racquets excel in every facet of the game, each has
also been “turbo charged” in particular qualities to maximize each player’s
strength and style.
For the power player daring enough to summon the ultimate
force in racquetball, capable of blasting all opponents to smithereens.
This is Fella...Remember
the word “Smithereens”.
For the shot-maker and pacesetter who deftly delivers
searing, precision zingers that are unrelenting in their pacesetting game of
attrition, punishing opponents on a torturous tour over every inch of the
court.
For the counter-punching, shot-making maestro calling on
catlike quickness and defensive wizardry to bedevil the opponent into
disbelieving bewilderment and frustration.
If there is a jail for Exaggeration,
the guy who wrote this over the top Description of this Racquet’s Destructive
Powers would be in Jail. Not only that he would be Solitary Confinement in that
jail.
If one day a guard said to the warden, “We can’t find the key to the Lying Racquet Composer’s Solitary Confinement
Cell!”.
The warden would probably reply, “
he ain’t
ever getting outa Solitary Confinement!”
It is frightening to think about the possibility of 2
players buying this Weapon of Destruction Racquet and playing a game against each
other. If these racquets lived up to the Manufacturer’s Exaggerated Hype, at
the end of the match there would be...
No Smithereens Left Standing
Would I kid u?
Smartfella
Lagniappe: One night as my Cousin Leon and I left the YMCA he said to me, "Handball is like hitting yourself in your head with a hammer. It feels so good when you quit." My Cousin always did have a way with words.