Plaque For the Attack

Posted by admin - 01/01/10 at 06:01 am

I have deceptive speed. I'm even slower than I look.

In my career as a television/radio regional celebrity/schmuck, I’ve had the pleasure of taking part in quite a few charity events. I’ve done walks, runs, jump-ropes, and all sorts of things inspired and silly.

I’ve had good moments. Last year at the age of 41, I ran a forty-yard dash for charity. Covered it in 5.55, won several bets, and earned a truckload of food for the East Texas Food Bank. Oh, and I didn’t have any of my knees or hamstrings explode. That was all I was hoping for, really.

I also had the fun of putting together a basketball team for a charity event in Tatum that was so Caucasian, we made the Washington Generals look like the 1995-96 Chicago Bulls. We went winless, which actually makes it sound like we did better than we really did. I felt like I was on the other team from Dr. Naismith’s first game, before he fully explained the rules to them.

"Jackass Tournament 2001"

My walls and desk drawers are full of plaques and donor recognition plaques, just little thank-you’s from charities and organizations I was personally thrilled to be working with. None of them were necessary of course, I was just doing it to have fun and hopefully help some people/animals/buildings in need.

My favorite of all of these plaques and trophies and certificates still sits on my desk. It seems somewhat appropriate.

It’s a half of a donkey…the back half. The trophy is engraved “Jackass Tournament 2001.”

No, it wasn’t a contest to determine the biggest jackass. I’m probably a Vegas favorite in that one. Chris Stuckey probably has the early line if you want to bet on it.

One night, I was on a champion Donkey Basketball team. I’m not sure if you’ve ever seen the sport, but it’s basketball played while riding donkeys.

Sure, I know that seems self-explanatory, but I just wanted to make sure.

In the thriving metropolis of Gary, Texas (population 303, all in attendance) back in October of 2001, I led my team to victory, donkey-backed.

That’s actually not completely true. My donkey was an especially nasty specimen that wouldn’t let me ride him, so I just grabbed him by the bridle and dragged him up and down the court, running into the opposing donkeys so their players couldn’t score.

Hey, donkey basketball is all about T-E-A-M. It’s not the name on the back of the donkey that counts, it’s the name on the front. Well, that and making sure you clean up the donkey poop as soon as possible.

Sure, I could have had a long career in insurance sales, or started a marketing blog, or learned to program the interwebs. But when I look at that half-jackassed trophy…it’s all worth it.

— Reid Kerr still wonders if the other team got the other half of the donkey trophies.

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