Teachers hated us in high school.
And, thinking back on those days in the early 1990s, it’s not hard to see why.
We pushed the teachers to their limits, but instead of going with standard ploys of spitballs and stinkbombs (OK, so maybe that’s only standard in the 1950s), we elevated the game to match our levels of humor and intelligence. That being said, we had our fair share of juvenile moments. You need only look to our anatomy class for proof.
That year, my cousin Chris Nolan invented a game in which we would gather at the blackboard before class and make puns and other word plays out of the terms written on the board. Let’s say the teacher had written “feces” on the board. First, we would have had a good giggle at the word “feces,” with Aaron no doubt pointing out that it’s shit. And if you know Aaron, can’t you just see the face he’s making as he says it and the way he’s dragging out the word? It’s one of his better swears.
Once our laughing ended, Chris or one of the rest of us would add a phrase like “the day” after it, thus creating “feces the day.” Get it — “seize the day”?
OK, so it wasn’t highbrow humor, but we were teenagers at Powell County High School, not cartoonists at The New Yorker. And by that I mean we were actually kind of funny.
One day Chris outdid himself, making his way to the board to tackle the term “sperm.” He kind of stood off to the side, obscuring our view of his chalkmanship as he scratched out his addition. He finished, paused and was pleased.
So were we.
As he moved aside, we were greeted with (and I now realize that the punchline of this truly depends on your knowledge of early 1990s Cincinnati Reds baseball, so I’m severly limiting my target audience) “Sperm Winningham.”
Editor’s note: for those of you aren’t laughing (and that’s pretty much everyone except Cory, Aaron, Shane and, if he reads this, Chris), the player in question is Herm Winningham.