Watch Out For The Salty Broadcaster!

They are often quite salty.  And quite often vengeful, spiteful and childish.  No, not politicians.  I'm talking about sportscasters.

I can recall a day years ago, on the final day of the season.  The team was on the road, so we had a few hours to kill during the morning before heading over to the ballpark.

Splat!

We were all ornery, all three of us that piled unenthusiastically out of the car that day, arriving at the crowded local mall.  We were tired and didn't particularly like malls.  And we really didn't like the season coming to an abrupt end.

As we weaved through the parking lot, walking toward the mall entrance, one of my salty colleagues commented about how this one flashy sportscar was parked across two spots, in a move that would make Larry David cringe.  The lot was full, but this guy apparently thought he was super important.

Well, on the final day of the season, one of us just wasn't going to take it.  He took a final sip from his nearly-untouched Super Big Gulp and launched the soda, splashing it across the windshield of the car.

"I hate when jerks park like that," he said.  As we casually sauntered toward the mall, the dark cola oozed down the windshield and across the shiny hood and doors.

Don't mess with the broadcaster.  Especially on the final day of the season.
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