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Going Postal
Posted: Wednesday October 28, 1998 05:53 PM
I have found that most people who publish their own fan
mail have a somewhat exaggerated sense of self worth. So
naturally, this version of the Flem File Mailbag will be
the first of a four-part series.
Joking. I'm
joking.
During the last month, I must say I have thoroughly enjoyed
the e-mail function of the Flem File. For starters, I no
longer feel like such a loser when I log on because now
that little
Dave
Thomas -esque voice always seems to validate my existence with a
cheerful
You've got
mail! And so far, there have been some doozies.
I'm not sure what this means but the very first e-mail I
got was from someone in New
Jersey:
You are an IDIOT! But at least you're better than those
viewpoints by Leigh
Moonville.
Dear Readers, I've always found that if you're going to
call someone an idiot, it's a good idea not to, later in
the very same sentence, spell someone's name incorrectly.
His name is
Leigh
Montville and last year he won a Cable Ace Award for his Viewpoints,
thankyouverymuch.
Some people just send in random questions. That's fine, as
long as you don't mind random
answers.
From Fort
Worth:
Can the Jags become the team of the next
millennium?
Don't ask me, let's wait and see what your
great-great-great-great grandkids
think.
Darren wants to
know:
What is a
PSL?
PSL stands for Personal Seat License, which is a fee you
pay (follow closely because this will blow your mind) for
the privilege of buying a season ticket. I hate PSLs. PSLs
are worse than the Redskins. In Charlotte, where I live,
PSL stands for
Panthers Supply the Loss. PSLs will become the death of all
professional sports, they are the work of Satan, don't buy
them, in fact, if you know someone who owns one, stop what
you're doing and give them a
WEDGIE!
Woa. Sorry there. Wow, I think I just went Postal. . . .
cooool.
Anyway, a lot of you seemed to like the story on
Miss
Flo from Baton Rouge. Although some folks from Texas A&M,
where fans are known as the 12th Man, claimed to be better
fans than Flo. That week, I should point out, they helped
their team defeat
Nebraska.
It's so good to see decent writing like yours. Writers
these days are either suckups,
Lupica wannabes, or in the case of baseball writers,
anal-retentive, closed-minded purists who prefer to live in
the past. Thanks for showing what the game is all
about—people who play and
watch.
In one week I moved up from an idiot to a decent writer. My
next email came from someone named
Candy :
Do you like it dirty? For the wildest smut on the internet
click right
here....
Uh, wait a sec, I'm not sure what that one is doing in my
Mailbag.
By far the most popular Flem File was last week's adventure
into the 40-yard dash. Let me first say that the soreness
is just now leaving my body. But I am planning on doing
many more interactive columns like these in the future. And
I'm always up for
ideas. Unless your name is
Candy.
Here's one from a reader in New
York:
Which D-1 cheerleading squad were you
on?
Oh that's below the belt. I was a wrestler in college. Four
varsity letters, thankyouverymuch. And, by the way, I have
always thought that male cheerleaders were a bit goofy.
Particularly the ones who tape their wrists. As if Lance,
the team captain,
had come running over in a panic before the game and said to
Chad, "Are you gonna be able to cartwheel or throw
Buffy into the air? We really need you out there." And
Lance replies, "Yeah, I'm just gonna tape 'er up and
block out the
pain."
Dangit, I just went Postal
again.
Anyway, here's some more about "40-yards and a cloud
of
dust:"
Absolutely
HILARIOUS!!!
Great article!!! Had me
rolling...
Gratuitous exclamation points, oh people, you flatter
me.
Flem: I just read your column on a possible future in an
NFL secondary and I thought it was hilarious. I laughed out
loud. Is there an easy access to past Flem Files, I would
love to read
more.
Why, of course. Soon, whenever you log on to CNNSI.com you
will be able to see a title or an icon referring to The
Flem File. Just click on my face and go
crazy.
And don't forget to e-mail
me.
Unless your name is
Candy.
Spanning the strange and wonderful world of sports, the
Flem File has visited a nudist colony, investigated nasal
strips, tried out for the Olympic bobsled team, and endured
injury and humiliation at the NFL Experience. What, or who,
should we riff on next week? If you've got a suggestion, a
comment or a question, don't just sit there, bring it on!
Click here to send an e-mail to Flem, or address it
yourself:
flemfile@aol.com.
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