The Breakfast of Champions
Almost anyone in the United States can become a number one ranked national athlete because The United States has developed age related groupings in virtually every athletic competition. As such there are only three elements necessary to guarantee success.
First, have a mediocre grasp combined with at least some experience in any sport. Secondly then, remain moderately healthy and physically capable to continue to play that sport. Then finally, just live long enough to either be the only person left in your age group, or possibly have only one or two living competitors to contend with.
This also creates highly favorable odds for at least one defaulted round due to a fellow competitor’s relapsing illness or unpredictable infirmity. Or in the best case scenario, your competitor’s sudden death will ultimately be the fortunate reason for a permanent bye.
This was illustrated by a TV news clip interview with the United States Tennis Champion in the ninety and over age group; a person of no particular prior notoriety. He was slim, lithe, wiry, and in very good physical shape, albeit the fact of looking Neo-Victorian in his nineteenth century tennis whites du mode.
Additionally he only had to play and win a single two set match to be crowned the champion, which he had done with quite some vigor, although not with what would also be categorized as graceful or artistic alacrity. It was not the sort of event that would have been showcased on ESPN, even it the network was out of ordinary filler for a baseball rainout.
When asked in his interview about the success of his longevity, he said it was due to a decade’s long routine of waking up every day, taking two aspirins, quaffing down three shots of Vodka, then followed up with a sirloin steak and egg breakfast. Knowing intuitively that the alcohol counteracted the cholesterol laden food, he also opined that if nothing else the booze-aspirin combination worked synergistically to loosen up his joints, while simultaneously imparting an immediate sense of un-abiding optimism.
All of this led me to believe that the only real mistake I had made in my high school dietary weight training program must have been omitting a couple of whisky chasers in the raw-egg milkshake before heading off for the school bus. I am sure this would have a long way to improve my somewhat pessimistic daily morning angst about everything from having to diagram sentences and learning algebra to rehearsing rope climbing, ship-sinking catastrophes in the gym for Coach Joe.
But it was not until many years later as a somewhat less athletically inclined, but still relatively active adult, that I was finally able to modify the perfect early morning routine that seemed to work the best.
“The Three Cs” regimen is a routine that is guaranteed not only to eliminate angst, dread, and non-specific pessimism; but also goes a long way to promote peaceful co-existence in the household.
This Breakfast of Champions comes highly recommended to anyone prone to being chronically bogged down by the routine boring humdrum of ordinary day-to-day life, the tedium of monotonous careers or prone to being blighted by the vaguely illusory syndrome of the TMBs: “Terminal Morning Blahs.”
The advice is similar to something your family doctor might recommend, is easy to remember, comes free of charge and has a smile back guarantee.
The Three Cs Breakfast of Champions: Coffee, Cornflakes and Cunnilingus
But not necessarily in that particular order.
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