How to explain to your parents (and everyone else) why you spend several hours a week rolling balls into little holes.

If you’re anything like me, I’m sure you’ve had a conversation just like this with your parents at least once:

Me: Mom, Dad, I need get something off my chest. It’s something I’ve been hiding from you for quite a while.

Mom: Oh, son, I always suspected you were a little…. *wink wink*

Me: NO, MOM! That is not what I’m talking about. What I wanted to say is this… I spend my weeknights playing in an adult skeeball league.

I get it. It’s tough to explain what our league is all about to the unacquainted, particularly to those whose only experience with skeeball might be the time they took you to Chuck-E-Cheese and you vomited pepperoni pizza all over the ball pit. Let’s be honest, when the average American thinks about skeeball (which is likely not a frequent occurrence) he or she probably thinks about three things: mulleted boardwalk carnies sliding their tongues across their toothless gums, children’s play palaces, and dusty old dive bars where week old PBR’s cost $1.25 and half of the people there are named Reggie.

But you and I know that none of those things are true about our league (none of you is named, Reggie, right?)

The SKEE  League is about Communitskee: it’s about about getting together on a weeknight, coming up with goofy names, drinking good beer, putting in a solid effort, and making real human connections.

Yes, our game of choice is atypical. I think we all understand that it’s silly as hell to spend hours rolling little red balls up a ramp. But aren’t all sports a little goofy?

Are you telling me that if we played water polo — a game invited for rich English dudes on horses now played in university pools– we’d be taken more seriously? That’s freaking insane.

So, friends, rollers, countrymen, I ask you just one thing: The next time some doofus chortles at you for your choice of recreational activity, tell him this, “I roll in The SKEE League. And it’s fuckskeeing awesome.”

Skeece out,
Liam