We’re on holiday schedule, which sets my deadline ahead of the event by five days.
Since I am not confident in my skills as a “sports pre-porter” I offer you some information about an upcoming event along with an absolutely true story about a Christmas miracle.
If your family is anything like mine, “home” for the Holidays can quickly change to “homicide.”
But that didn’t happen this year.
Everything was quiet…everyone was sweet.
My father is just an older, grumpier, more set-in-his-ways version of me.
He frowned when he saw me placing the turkey into the roasting pan, breast-side down.
But when he sampled the succulent meat, the first thing he said was, “This is the most tender and moist turkey I’ve ever had.”
That was not the Christmas miracle.
My sister is a bit set in her ways, too…and has a short fuse.
I ate all the cookies she’d baked, dad and I played with remote-controlled boxing robots (very noisy) during her favorite TV shows, and my dog slept on her bed while she was at work. But not a peep.
This wasn’t the miracle, either.
Dad needed new slippers.
The old ones never fit. They’re “slip-ons” but that’s a misnomer, ‘cause all they do is slip off. They’re too big and all the weight rests up front so as soon as you pick up your foot, they start to slide off.
You have to shuffle like a cross-country skier or they’ll drop off in mid-stride…and then trip you.
We call them “The Suicide Slippers”.
And yet, we all still wear them.
Dad asked me to take out the garbage so I put on the suicide slippers and headed out the backdoor.
The receptacle was overflowing with wrapping paper and Christmas ribbon. When I positioned it at the curb in front of dad’s car, some glittery ribbon spilled out.
I took a step toward the ribbon.
The slipper immediately slid off my foot, jammed into the gutter and tripped me.
I was careening forward, heading for a face-plant.
In a last-ditch effort to keep from kissing asphalt, I lurched forward and reached out.
My face was inches away from the pavement when my hand felt the bumper of dad’s car. I stiff-armed it hard to change my trajectory, then I rolled to absorb and distribute the force of my fall.
As my leg whipped around to initiate the roll I felt the other slipper rocket skyward, off of my foot. It launched like a Nike missile and disappeared into the night sky.
As I completed my second roll and slowed to a stop I could tell I hadn’t broken anything and I began to laugh.
Then my entire world glowed red.
My sister had come out the front door, gotten into her car, saw nothing behind her and began to back out.
I cranked into another roll. Tires missed me by inches, ran over the glittery ribbon and then rolled away.
I could feel that laugh rising again until I heard a faint whistling.
What goes up must come down. Hurtling back from the heavens was the slipper…taking one last shot.
I couldn’t see it. I could only hear it.
I twisted and it came down, toe-first, right next to my face.
I got up slowly.
Not only was I still alive, I didn’t have a scratch on me. Nothing.
That was a Christmas miracle!
On Saturday, January 5, 2019 (7pm) WCK Full Rules Muay Thai kicks off its 30th year of promoting with “Bring the Heat 3” Cali 32.
Dennis Warner and In Sync Productions present a full card of championship competition at the Burbank Marriott Convention Center.
More than a dozen bouts are scheduled, featuring three title fights.
Food is available, and there is a full bar.
I already got my tickets…say “Hi” if you see me.
For information and tickets visit WCKMuayThai.com.
God Bless your Christmas and New Year.
Mark Felicetti wants to know if Santa was good to you. Reach him at firstname.lastname@example.org.