Slogging Through The Summer

by Tucker Kennedy-Studach

About The Author

He has passions that range from sports and adventuring, to playing video games and watching too much TV, as well as everything in between. When he's not lazy, something happens...

JULY 18, 2018

Firstly, allow me to introduce myself, my name is Tucker and I’m incredibly excited to be joining the No Sell Entertainment family! Through different platforms I hope to contribute a myriad of content, from athletics to video games, and everything in between. Please keep a lookout for the “Lowered Expectations” name, and enjoy!

The Summer Slog

It’s inevitable, with every Summer comes a period of time I like to refer to as the summer slog; that oh-so-special time when ALL SPORTS DIE. DEAD. NO MORE. SAYONARA SUCKA! Not really to that extent, but it certainly feels like it. This year we’re a bit luckier because of the World Cup, but to be honest I can’t do it, soccer just doesn't tickle my fancy. Nor does the awful NBA summer league or the majority of Le Tour de France. The same goes for any small-time activities like corn-hole, competitive eating (ironically not the same thing), or that little thing called regular-season baseball (162 games). So while most people utilize this period of time to travel, let’s say to Scotland, I’m here feeling like a jacobite slogging through the bog of Culloden Moor, just trying to survive til post-season baseball and college football. In fact, the aforementioned bike ride, bag tossing, mouth stuffing, and meaningless baseball seem more like the cannon balls and musket fire that the jacobites had to actively dodge as they were trying to gain ground for melee combat (a jacobite strength). I wont get into details, my ancestors the Campbell’s didn't have a good showing, but while the infighting amongst Scottish clan chiefs ramped up, their demise quickly followed due to the bog and the redcoats. Today, as I flip channels in search of hope, all I see are the usual talking-heads, debating poorly whether or not LeBron will win rings in LA, or if the NFL can finally tell us what is/isn’t a catch. To me, they look like the losing clan chiefs, and while I know that somewhere William Wallace (rather, Mel Gibson) will soon be screaming for freedom… we continue the slog through Summer.

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