Jimmy's Shame....No One's Gain

It's been longer than I would have liked since filling everyone in on the happenings surrounding my existence. Several attempted blogs fell into the great abyss of cyberspace for unknown reasons, so hopefully this one will survive to reach my loyal readership. The title you ask? Last night all in attendance at the FU men's basketball game (a victory over Western Carolina 73-66) had an opportunity to win a flat screen television by throwing a paper airplane of their own construction from their seat and landing it closest to said television. Jimmy managed to slide his plane from our dedicated post next to the guy's bench under the TV. Unfortunately for B208, another plane did the same sailing in from another side of the court. Then it came down to random number selection and both contestants were the same distance from the required number. Alas, the fate of our apartment's future relationship with a flat screen tv and Jimmy's shame would be decided at the free throw line. This was, at first glance, a cause for celebration due to the sickly nature of Jimmy's opponent, who much to our chagrin and the surprise of all stepped up and sank his first shot under a barrage of chants from the Shamenomics squad (or at least those dedicated enough to attend) Obviously, Jimmy now needed a free throw to keep our hopes alive. One free throw. Fifteen feet from the basket. No defense. It is at times like this, to quote Brian Shell, "games are won and lost". Well, this is also when flat screen televisions are won and lost, primarily lost. It is at times like this that words fail and then return, words like "choke", "dong" and especially "shame" come to mind. As you may have assumed by now, Jimmy sent his free throw clanging off the iron, and sent the TV out the door in unworthy hands. Needless to say, the shame has been nearly unbearable for our friend Mr. Peters and his friends have been more than welcome to keep this pressure up, merely preparing him should this opportunity ever present itself again.
The evening did not improve much from here. With Jimmy's monumental defeat still fresh in our minds, we witnessed Blackwell's Back put up some real basketball skills in a brave loss to the volleyball team. While exiting the parking lot, Erin, still sore over her loss in the Frosty Free Throw Challenge moments before suggested that there was but one car on the road, so it would be fine for me to pull out the wrong way to avoid wasting 30 seconds on superflous turns. My mother had always taught me not to trust women, but for a mere moment, possibly a point of weakness after recently shaming her at the free throw line, I followed this ill-fated advice. It would appear that the one other vehicle on the road was one of Furman's finest out on his daily rounds. Now, as all students of Shamenomics understand with the cyclical nature of shame, it was now mine to bear. One can imagine how the situation went down from there on out. The officer did not appreciate our laughter, but let me off with a slap on the wrist. Our vehicle troubles continued at Wendy's where someone insisted on making a scene, but luckily for that unnamed individual it is time for class. Adam's birthday tomorrow, look for a hilarious post about the things he does on this evening of excess.