I See No Point In Waiting to Know Whether I’ve Won Before Accepting the Bloggie Award for Best Sports Blog
A Note from Fatty: Why don’t you help a few Friends of Fatty get free blogger entries into the Breck Epic? Click here and then vote for Neil Miner, Team Dicky (aka Rich Dillen), and Jen Hanks. It costs you nothing to vote, and they’ll appreciate it.
Update: I won! I won I won I won I won!
Thanks everyone. Seriously. And thanks especially to Jeff for going up there and actually reading at least a little bit of the speech. I would never have done that for him.
Update 2: MY SISTER JODI WON TOO! Best Kept Secret. I do not apologize for writing that in all caps.
Today (Monday) is the day the 2009 Bloggie winners are announced. And while I have no idea of whether I have won (Best Sports Blog) or not, I am utterly convinced that I ought to be the winner.
And, luckily, Jeff Hadfield — who has been a good friend of mine for right around 25 years now — will be at the convention where they’re announcing winners and, presumably, handing out eight-foot-tall trophies made of solid platinum.
I have asked Jeff to give the following speech if I win. And, if I don’t win, I have asked him to get up, battle his way to the front, and — using the megaphone which I have supplied him — give the speech anyway.
Hey, when you’ve been friends for 25 years, you get to ask for some pretty big favors.
Thank you. Thank you, thanks. You’re too kind. No, please, sit down.
[Wait for applause to finally die down. This may take a few minutes.]
Again, thank you.
This is not the first Bloggie the Fat Cyclist — or “Fatty,” as he likes to be called, for some reason which has never been satisfactorily explained — has won. And, provided that he can continue to get The Pioneer Woman to link to him from time to time, and as long as bribery and extortion are not specifically prohibited as methods to procure votes, it will not be his last.
[Wait for applause and appreciative laughter to subside. Make slight bow to Pioneer Woman.]
Fatty would first of all like to thank everyone who voted for him. Further, he would like to do this individually, and in person. It may take a while. Please be patient.
He’d also like to thank everyone who’s joined and is working on fundraising with Team Fatty for the Lance Armstrong Foundation. Together, Team Fatty has raised nearly $140,000 toward fighting cancer so far this year. Which is not bad for a blog consisting mostly of fake news, fake open letters, and semi-true stories about an obscure sport.
And now, I believe I shall begin to drink.
[Take long tug from bottle concealed in brown paper bag. Shudder.]
Next, Fatty wants to thank his advertisers for…advertising.
[Take a drink. Put the bottle down as if to begin speaking, then instead to drink again.]
Fatty feels this would be an exceptional time to thank God for inventing the avocado. He has spent some time trying to imagine a more delicious and perfect food, and cannot. Although cashews come pretty close, and Nutella’s right there in the mix.
But Fatty isn’t thanking God for Nutella. The thanks for Nutella go to Ferrero. Thanks, Ferrero!
[Drink again. Begin speaking louder.]
Fatty would also like to thank those who nominated him for Best Sports Blog. At the same time, Fatty would like to apologize for blogging about Sports very rarely. Furthermore, Fatty would like to concede that cycling, at least the way he does it, can barely be called a sport at all.
[Drink again. Grab the podium for support.]
As long as he is apologizing, Fatty would like to apologize on behalf of cyclists everywhere for wearing tight black lycra shorts. While Fatty does not think he bears any particular responsibility for this general transgression, he does understand the anger and frustration these shorts cause, and feels that someone ought to apologize.
[Drink. Fall down. Use podium to climb back up into standing position. Begin yelling into the microphone (or megaphone) as if your voice were not being amplified.]
None of what I just said should be in any way construed as Fatty giving up this Bloggie. It’s his. You can’t have it. Go get your own.
[Drink, fall down, and go to sleep.]