I Accidentally Invented a New Sport (You’re Welcome)

Howdy ho Muggheads! Your good pal Frosty Mugg is back again with another story about something incredibly stupid that happened to me recently.

Except this time, it wasn’t stupid at all. In fact, it might be the smartest thing I’ve ever done!We’re talking history books and documentaries. Maybe even a statue or two too!

But before I get into all that, I should probably grab another beer. Be right back. Beer right back!

Alright, I’m back, and I’m feeling athletic.

Hey, you know what’s funny?

(Offensive joke about disabled people removed -Ed.)

You know what else is funny?

I always hear people say that drinking beer makes you less athletic. Those people clearly have no idea what they’re talking about. If anything, beer enhances performance. Nobody invents a new sport while drinking water. That’s just a fact!

Like most of my greatest accomplishments, this one started at Yellowz Bar and Grill. I was sitting in my usual seat, enjoying my usual brew, when Barty the Bartender came over to talk to me. He looks at me and says, “Frosty, you’ve been here for six hours.”

Gee, thanks Father Time! It’s not like I could read the big glowing Yuengling clock on the wall or anything!

Note to self: Steal Barty’s big glowing Yuengling clock!

I explained to Barty that I’m legally required to remain intoxicated at all times, so if anything, I was following the law. You’d think he’d appreciate that kind of civic responsibility.

Well, he didn’t!

First, he told me that his name was Mike, and that I really needed to stop calling him Barty because it wasn’t funny the first time. Then he told me the judge never said I had to drink specifically at his bar. I told him this was a weak argument. He told me it was time to go home. I said I’d leave after I finished my beer. And the next one. And then maybe a quick transition beer. Five minutes later, I was outside.

So there I was, walking home with my phone in one hand and a fresh beer in the other. And when I say walking, I mean a controlled, confident, athletic stride. I looked like Hussein Bolt out there! (Usain Bolt… -Ed.) Everything was going perfectly. What could possibly go wrong?

Me and my big mouth!

First my phone slipped. Then my beer slipped. It’s easy for a guy (or a girl, AJ says we don’t discriminate here at AJnet Magazine!) to panic in that situation. Most people just drop everything and accept defeat.

But Frosty Mugg isn’t “most people!”

With my elite-level reflexes, I kicked the falling beer mug up into the air with my foot while grabbing my phone with my hand. Then I leaned forward and caught the mug before it hit the ground. Not a single drop spilled.

I’m not lying! I even have witnesses to collaborate (corroborate… ~Ed.) my story! Some guy walking his dog saw the whole thing! “Did you just juggle a beer with your foot?”, he asked, announcing his amazement at my astounding athletic ability. I hadn’t even thought about it like that at first, I was just trying to save the beer and do my part to prevent alcohol abuse.

Well as it turns out, Muggheads, I wasn’t just saving my beer. I was inventing a brand spanking new sport: Beerball!

This just had to be tested, and immediately! So I turned around and went right back into Yellowz.

~~Barty~~ ~~Marty~~ Mike looked at me like he had just seen a ghost. “Frosty, you literally just left.”

Oh Mike my dear bartender, I didn’t leave. I evolved! And in honor of my evolution, his bar now had the honor of hosting the first official Beerball tournament. He didn’t agree, but that didn’t matter, because within minutes people were outside trying it anyway.

And of course, the first person to get way too into it was Edwin!

Now if you know Edwin, you know that this man absolutely CANNOT do anything halfway. In fact, his nickname is “Extra Edwin”.

Or rather, it should be!

Edwin’s already got a Gin and Goose in one hand, yelling at everyone like a high school gym coach.

“Alright you clowns, let’s see some athleticism! Frosty, you better not have invented some weak-ass sport!”

Before I could even respond, he drops his drink, tries to flick it up with his foot, completely misses, and spills it all over himself like an idiot.

He just stands there for a second, looks down, and goes, “That one didn’t count.”

Of course it didn’t, Edwin. Of course it didn’t.

Then my friend Alex shows up.

Alex didn’t even try the sport at first. He just stood there watching everybody, nodding like he had figured something out.

Finally he pulls me aside and goes, “Frosty, you realize what you’ve done here, right?”

Here we go with another one of Alex’s crazy conspiracy theories. What is it this time, Alex? Does that John Worthington guy have cameras in the glass or something?

Sure enough, he drops one of his stupid truth bombs. “You’re teaching people how to preserve resources under pressure. This is exactly the kind of skillset that’ll be necessary when the global supply chains collapse. It’s conditioning, it’s training!”

I stared at him for a second, took a sip of my beer, and said, “Alex, it’s a falling drink.”

He points at me like I just proved his point. “Exactly. You get it.”

I did not get it. But sometimes with Alex it’s best to just nod and agree.

Meanwhile, outside, things were getting out of control. One guy tried to kick the mug up like a soccer ball and spilled half of it instantly. Another guy tried to headbutt it and nearly knocked himself out. Some younger guy attempted a full bicycle kick and completely missed, falling backward into a table. Sorry buddy, you get style points for sure, but that’s still a loss.

Edwin, now on his second attempt, is screaming, “WATCH THIS!” He drops the drink, kicks it, actually makes contact this time… and launches it directly into someone else’s face. If Slim were still here he’d probably have made a lame joke about Edwin goosing the guy.

Edwin throws his hands up and yells, “THAT GUY MOVED!”

Now, I might have been just a little drunk, but I’m pretty sure that the guy did NOT move.

At this point there’s a full crowd outside. People yelling, laughing, trying their own versions, and completely ignoring the most important rule: don’t spill the beer. That’s the whole point! These amateurs were butchering my new sport!

So as the inventor of Beerball, I stepped in to show these rookies how it’s done.

I dropped the mug, kicked it up, caught it behind my back, spun around, and took a clean victory sip. A flawless execution. The crowd went nuts. Even Edwin gave me a nod of respect, which is rare, because he usually hates when I’m right.

Then Mike came outside and started yelling about things like broken glass, huge messes, and people being drunk idiots.

Now look, every great sport has growing pains. You think early baseball didn’t break a few windows? You think football didn’t wreck a couple fields? Progress isn’t clean. Sometimes progress costs Barty a few glasses.

You can’t spell “progress” without two S’s. Do you know what other word has two S’s? I do! It’s “glasses”. Coincidence? I think NOT!

Beerball has a future. I’m talking leagues, tournaments, sponsorships, maybe even the Olympics someday. And when they ask who invented it, there will only be one answer:

Frosty Mugg.

Now a judge might say I invented it while publicly intoxicated and destroying property again, but that sounds like a technicality and a problem for future Frosty.

Anyway Muggheads, I’ve gotta go. All this athletic performance has made me thirsty, and I think Yellowz is ready for round two.

Remember the golden rule of Beerball: if you spill the beer, you lose!

Frosty Mugg

Frosty is a reckless idiot, a drunk bastard, and a walking bad decision. When he’s not on a bar stool, he’s usually writing half-cocked articles or making things worse for everyone involved. Due to a major international incident, he is legally required to remain intoxicated at all times.

See author's posts