Thursday, January 28, 2010

Get your mask off me, you damned dirty ape.

All good things come to an end. After two years of "big chimpin'," I'm hanging up the mask and flight suit. The role of Dragomir Pisimov, the mascot that started as joke Halloween costume, must be passed on to another derby spouse with more time, energy and tolerance to latex than I possess.

(pictured: The first attempt)
Dragomir Pisemov
"You look like a dog in prison" - Some kid outside Ruby Khan's apartment

I've had many great memories in that costume. Biting Sully the Gully on the arm (the seagull mascot of the Pissahs) made my father prouder than he was on my graduation day. Seriously, my father hates that bird. "I want to kill him," he said once. "Make sure that kid knows to change before coming out to the parking lot, because the duck beak makes me want to hurt him. Douche." Yikes.

LaFond men
My grandfather and dad don't go for silly bird costumes. They're serious men.

My father's bizarre rage aside, I was pleased to get a crowd behind the Cosmonaughties at a time where they suffered some truly humbling losses. Our fans, however, loved them and never lost faith. And for two seasons, we squeaked into the playoffs and made it to the Championship bout! That was a big deal. We lived the sports comedy dream; our success reminiscent of Major League, The Bad News Bears, Wildcats (with Goldie Hawn), and Police Academy 1-3.

My main reason to leave the mask behind is that I'm announcing for Boston this season. Both for the home teams and the Boston Massacre. Play-by-play is an awesome job. To practice, I follow people around the supermarket, calling the action. She grabs the peas, next she's heading over to the produce, and now she's finding the manager to complain about my running commentary...  As a writer, it helps to have to find the right economy of words to explain the action to the audience without missing a beat. It's a skill I can use on the page. In other words, announcing is a selfish act that is helping me in a part of my life that is not directly related to helmets and skates.

So, I'm looking for my replacement. The Cosmonaughties and the Pissahs are facing off in a rematch of the playoffs on February 27th. Anyone looking to take my place in the suit, and my father's heart, should contact me.

Now, from Season Two, Drago's dance with the Vulvatron 5000.

1 comment:

  1. Does this mean I can finally stop squeezing the cat over your bout-day outfit? If we're no longer mortal enemies, I'm sure the cat would prefer to pee in his litter box.