
What’s all the Racquet
About?
Surely you’ve heard by now
that some big name motorcycle builder was slapped with
an even bigger monetary fine by a group of underpaid
whack-jobs who can’t find real jobs; the
California Air Resources Board. (CARB) The six
figure fine was handed to this disingenuous parasite
for selling a batch of bikes that didn’t meet state
“emissions standards.” I’ve been telling you for
years that smog check for bikes looms large on our
horizon (confirmed by CARB this year) but nobody
listens. It seems only a select few of us actually
give a damn while guys like this live in denial and
blame US when THEY get fined, because they expect
someone else to fight for their “rights.” I
try to keep everyone updated on all the ridiculous
fines being handed down, but the community didn’t
take any real interest in the fines of the REAL shops
that keep our sport rollin’.
Look, this is easy, the guy
fancies himself as a Biker, with the cutesy little
thug uniform and all that hoopla, but his bad-ass
reputation was entirely bought and paid for, years
ago, by somebody else who’s walkin’ around with a
couple of teeth missing. As an avid rider, I can
tell you the guy just doesn’t exist in my world.
I tell people outside our realm that he really
isn’t one of “us.” He’s just another porous
ego-sponge who’s momma didn’t pet him enough as a
child. How unfortunate…for us.
To maintain my ideological
consistency on relevant real-world issues, I apply a
few simplistic analogies to matters that might cause
moral conflict within my psyche. On immigration, I
apply the “Not in My House Analogy.” On religion
(and riding IS my religion) I apply the “Not in My
Church Analogy.” On issues regarding Club L.A.M.E.,
(Look At Me Everybody) the preening peacocks who go
around revvin’ their pipes and spoiling things for
the rest of us, the Chrome-O-Sexuals™ who
salivated at seeing one of us at a stop light and
traipsed right down to the Stealership™ to BUY that
attitude and freedom lifestyle for themselves without
any regard for the social responsibility of
tithing to our church, for them, I created the
“Tennis Analogy.”
The Tennis Analogy, applied to
those who perpetuate the myth of being cool without
sacrifice, let’s say, builders, goes like this; You
make fancy tennis racquets but you don't really like
to play tennis. You’re an artisan with fiberglass
and strings, but you’ve never given support to the
tennis community. You don't join the various tennis
organizations and you don’t even know who it is that
keeps the tennis courts lit up at night. When
volunteers from the tennis organizations stop by your
shop because they need help, you say, "WHO are
you? And what can you do for ME?” (True, he did)
You aren't there on the state
capitol steps with the rest of us at any protest rally
for “Tennis Rights” and you certainly aren’t
there for “Tennis Awareness Month” which is now
recognized by the legislature because of US.
No, you get an exemption because you’re
somebody special. Well, you might fool a bunch of
mindless couch potatoes with chrome grip tape and
titanium doo-dads, but your tennis racquets have no
soul if they aren’t played with. Who needs a useless
tennis racquet in their garage? The REAL tennis
players have REAL life tennis stories to tell about
their racquets, matches won and lost. The time they
got a haircut with Jimmy Connor or bought a drink for
Arthur Ashe. Picking up balls for Martina Navratilova.
You never gave a dime to the
Tennis Voter Guide, you don't even vote. You want the
prestige of being the go-to-guy in the tennis world
and you certainly dress the part. You wear the fancy
little tennis bracelet, you sport the sexy white
tennis shorts and you mug it up for the camera. That
racquet in your hand brings fame and fortune. You wear
the same goofy little sweat band that Agassi wears,
but when it comes to brass tacks, you're only doing it
to pillage what ya can out of the tennis community
before you get bored and move on. You NEVER give back,
it’s just take, take, take. Count the money and let
somebody else bleed for the right to swing a racquet
around. You just make the tennis racquets and you
paint 'em up pretty, it's not your job. Uh huh, right.
If I'm gonna play tennis, I'm
gonna play with someone who actually enjoys the sport
and understands what it is to preserve tennis for
future generations, by doing good deeds and hard work.
One of the more popular shirts to come out of
Wimbledon said, "_ _ _ _ _ Who?" I
live my life by that creedo and the other shirt I own
that says, “Fifteen grand and 15 matches doesn’t
make you a tennis player.” The back of that shirt
sez: “If you see my racquet on a trailer, call 911,
it’s being stolen!”
Don’t play coy, conveniently
forget to get involved, make a Ka-Zillion dollars by
breaking all the rules and then have the audacity to
ask US why WE didn’t do enough to protect you.
Ka-Zillionaire that he is, he STILL can't find the
chump change in the petty cash drawer to join an MRO.
(Motorcyclist Rights Organization) SAME as those other
bozos on the east coast, and they’re Ka-Jillionaires.
If they won’t support us, why on earth should
we support them? We’re VOLUNTEERS, willing to
sacrifice our left nut for the sport while their
leech-like conceit exists only to take FROM the sport.
So, be honest. How many of you
have a fancy tennis racquet with a slick paint job in
your garage? Now, how many of you actually PLAY
tennis with that racquet? And here’s the grand
slam; How many of you drive around with a tacky tennis
sticker on the rear window of your pick-up truck
because it makes you look cool?
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