American Gladiators

American Gladiators

While watching the Jaguars/Steelers playoff game tonight, I couldn't help but notice the proliferation of commercials for tomorrow night's return of American Gladiators.

There is something that troubles me with these ads.

It is not that Hulk Hogan is co-hosting the bash.

It is not that I have not yet heard one generically named Gladiator introduce him or herself, yet.

It is not the exile of one Dan "Nitro" Clark from the proceedings.

It is that I have not yet seen the fabled Tennis Ball Cannon in any of the previews.

Now, there were a few things that caught my eye with the Original American Gladiators.

If and when I reach "made of money" status, I would like to set up my own arena with "Atlasphere" balls, to run around and crash into people with.

I like the idea of "The Wall," and I think such an event is much how we should decide upon our elected officials, in this country. You can't tell me that it wouldn't be hilarious to see Rudy Guiliani or Hillary Clinton yanked from Presidental Contention by a musclebound freak in spandex.

But more than any other, the game "Assault" has continued to intrigue me. In the game, for you should be be unacquainted, a contestant was made to attack a Gladiator with various "Weapons," all the while the Gladiator being attacked is shooting at them with a high-powered tennis ball cannon.

Now, given the amount of time I spend talking about "Stegosaurs are Ninjas," and finding clever ways to work the word "Vulva" into conversations, you might guess that I've taken tennis ball or seven off the old gourd at various points in my life.

But never from a high-powered cannon. Yes, they've been both hand, racquet and dog propelled, but never once have I been shot with a tennis ball cannon.

I tend to think that should that happen, I would truly be a man among men.

Also, I would mount such a contraption to my truck. The only problem is, I have not fully devised away for me to fire the weapon and drive at the same time, without losing some of the thrill of the recoil, as a tennis ball hurdles toward its victim.

Yeah. I would like a tennis ball cannon. Such a thing would be very amusing to me.

So, in closing. When you're thinking of gifts to buy your pal Tommy?

Think either Trash Bags full of cash, or Tennis Ball Cannon.

The former would afford me the capability to procure the latter.

Amen.