Joe has decided to skip the 2016 Rio games. He made the decision a couple of weeks ago, just before the Virginia Special Olympics at the University of Richmond. It was partly the whole Zinka thing (makes his nose look funny), but mostly it was the lack of competition now that the Russians are out. He’s been waiting for this moment since he saw Rocky IV, and embarrassing all the Usain Phelps in the world won’t give him the same gut-level satisfaction as kickin’ some drugged-out commie ass. Joe gets so angry sometimes.
But we did go to the Virginia games, thank goodness, as it calmed him down a lot. He quickly compartmentalized those nesting-doll-loving pinkos and laser-focused on his four events.
First was the 25-meter dash, where he ran triumphantly! The crowd on their feet. A tear on Vangelis’ cheek as we collectively realized the majesty we were witnessing. It’s not slow motion …
Joe is actually running that fast!
Next, the two-person tennis ball toss, where Joe and his throwing coach Carleigh put some stank on it and almost cleared an unmeasured distance of grass. It went so far! Poetry in motion, as ol’ Johnny Tillotson used to say.
Then the team of Mama-Joe-Carleigh combined for the double-assisted-lift standing long jump, rocketing Joe to a personal best. Mama Joe Carleigh would also be my name if I was a drag queen who specialized in country music. Is that a thing? Just googled it, and sure enough!
Joe focused his real energy on the unsanctioned event he’s dominated since getting into the game – making friends with random folks, mostly the ladies. Like this first place effort …
These former strangers followed Joe from the field to the awards, offering to babysit, asking for photos, and making all the college boys that much more insecure. How did this tiny man, with mismatched teeth and a balding dad, snag this caliber of women … without even saying a word? Because you smell like Axe and you trying to hard.
Not Joe, I just like this photo. The streak of a lone athlete as he celebrates personal victory. Faceless every-man spectators, maybe coaches, watch with awe and love as he passes. That’s Special Olympics.