Help! I’m talking and I Can’t Shut Up!


Yesterday, I took my son and my brother to watch the Miami Dolphins train, at their training facility.My brother absolutely loves, football, although, to him, the Green Bay Packers, are the only one that really count.My brother, reminds all of us of, Dustin Hoffman’s character, Rain Man. Though, he is not autistic, he is mentally challenged, and when he’s stuck on something, it doesn’t change.

So it was extremely, surprising when, even he, despised, Brett Favre, when he left the Packers. Yes, his idol, Brett, became the enemy. After all, he was playing for the Vikings, in the end, and everyone knows, that you don’t go against the Packers! I wondered, “What in the world would he do, if Brett Favre, ends up as a Quarterback, for the Dolphins?” As I heard this rumor.

It has been years, and I still try to convince my brother, to be a fan of the Florida teams. And he loves to watch sports, no matter, who’s playing, but if they’re up against any Wisconsin team, it’s an automatic; Florida’s going down.Each year, he tells us “the Packers are going to the Superbowl.” And most of the time, he’s right. Although, on the rare occasion, that they’re not in it, he switches teams, back and forth, with whichever one is winning.To him, the opposite team is always called, “The Eagles.” No offense guys, but my brother, somehow has learned that your name is synonymous with, Losers. Don’t blame me, I even sent him on a trip to Philadelphia, to watch a game, and he is still, not going to let you off the hook. He was must have been conditioned, by a mob of Packer loving, Eagle haters. So someone else is to blame.

He has no shame in his game,and everyone laughs, as he goes right up to the TV screen, and does his animated, thumbs down! I enjoy watching, him, way more than the game. I know how much he loves being a part of something, which involves, a team.

So, I thought, “hey, these two are going to love watching the Dolphins train. When they see the camera’s on the news, and all the die-hard fans, who come to watch them, they’ll be inspired.

The training camp is right near me, so it’s really a fun thing to do. The last time we were here, was a few years ago, and it was pouring down rain. So we had to leave. I still managed to get some good pictures of my son and brother, with some of the players. But that’s about all we did.

Today, it was 89 degrees, and of course, all of us forgot the sunscreen. I usually have it in my car, but had just cleaned out my car. So this is not good. I decided to bring my little, pink umbrella to shield us from the sun.Of course, I knew, I would have to put it down, when they began to play.Well, as the sweat was already dripping down my back into my shorts, I said to my son, “I look like a wet my pants already!” I’m thinking, I’m already soaked, and they are only in practice.

A woman came over to tell me I would need to close the umbrella, until I told her I had intended to keep it open, only until the game began. She agreed, that this would be fine. She probably saw, that my brother’s bald head, unprotected, would be like a red beacon, which would be far more distracting than my pink umbrella. My face and that of my son, so fair, probably gave her compassion. “Oh, that’s fine, as long as you close it when they are ready to play.” Oh, those small kindnesses. I reprimanded my brother, once more, about his failure to remember his hat. And this would have been a perfect time to wear, his autographed, Packers cap. He almost gave it away at my last yard sale, and I was incredulous. “How could you put this in the pile?” I asked him. Here I find myself, being a total contradiction. I try to teach him to let go of things, and now I’m questioning why he would give that up? The autographs are very difficult to read anyway, but all I could surmise, is that Brett Favre’s, name is on it somewhere.

My son was asking for a ‘lemonade ice,’ before we even sat down. And at $4 a pop, this was going to be their first and their last one. I told him to “make it last.But I’m feeling sorry, that we are sitting here, because it is hotter than I imagined, and already, I’m thinking, there’s no way, we are staying for the whole game.

As the game is about to start, I close my umbrella. All of a sudden, I feel the presence of someone behind me, and I feel him bend forward. Right in between my son and me. Already so hot, I can feel his breath as he speaks, “Hey, is that Reggie Bush?” He asks me. “I really don’t know.” I tell him. Truth be told, the only one I know, is Jason Taylor.Every woman’s crush.

I have the team roster, but it’s really not accurate. As this guy, starts to talk, I realize one thing. “He is about to start a ramble session, like I’ve never heard in my whole life.He begins to tell us that he has been in the presence of such great people. Not just the Dolphins,but many Hollywood stars. He’s been in the movie, with Tom Cruise. On and on he goes. Everything he speaks, seems disjointed. In my mind, I’m trying to analyze, how he connected from one subject to another. Though it didn’t take long to see, he had a strong desire, to prove, he was important, by association. On and on he rambled. As my son stated, later, “There wasn’t even a period, in his sentence!” I was impressed, that my son had even noticed, this ‘run-on sentence,’ as grammatical error.

I have listened, as I’m trying to watch the players.”Oh, they’re just like real people,” he says. Which makes me laugh. I thought they were real people. But no matter, this guy does not need any encouragement from me.He continues, that he had encounter’s with one of the players, at a restaraunt, when he was dining with his family. “His wife was pregnant,” he said, and she was like this.” He makes a gesture,to show the girth of her stomach. As if I didn’t know what pregnant, really meant. All I could imagine, is this poor guy, with his family, having to be accosted, by Greg’s mouth. I wonder if the guy had a chance to eat.

He literally does not take a breath, and then he tells me that, his mother is an actress, and she’s always given him, one word, of advice. (Hmm, this ought to be good), She tells me, “Greg, if I give you any advice, it’s this,” LISTEN!” She says. Oh, my gosh! It’s obvious that he has not!  Poor mom, must be going insane, and I can only imagine, that Word, came in a shout!

Then he continues, “You have to know when to talk, and when to be quiet.” Is this a joke? I’m thinking. Am I on one of those shows, “What Would You Do?” Cause in my mind, I’m saying, “Shut Up!” But, I actually feel sorry for him. I’m starting to think, he’s mentally challenged, like my brother. Surely, no one can have a problem like this, unless they have something wrong. Or perhaps he’s on drugs. But no, he has a history. As he tells me about living with his mom and the way she speaks to him, I’ve gathered, with my investigative skills, that he is much closer to the Rain Man, character, than my brother is.

Then he continues talking about the movie he was just in, with Tom Cruise. Then the most amazing thing; He starts imitating, Rain Man. My son, finally turns around and starts cracking up. He starts to engage him, with the banter, since they both know all the parts of this movie. And they speak in unison, “Of course, Judge Wopner, at one clock!” I’m laughing at this. My brother loves the movie as well. I always wonder, if he is able to perceive himself, as this person. At any rate, Greg, should really think of auditioning for this part in community theater. He’d certainly be a natural!

I finally realized that I’m clearly not going to see any of this game, and we’re on so uncomfortably hot, it isn’t worth it. I declare, “It’s time to go.” My son’s relief was  clearly evident, and he almost seem to convey, “What took so long?” We stood up, and I say to Greg, who claims to know everyone, “Put in the good word for me, with Jason Taylor.” “Oh!” He says, “I will, but how do I get in touch with you?” Oh no you don’t, I’m thinking, even, if any of this was true, and at the risk, of losing, my connection to JayTay, I’m not giving up any of that info!

After returning to the car, my son, who usually is the one talking, said, finally, “What was wrong with that guy?  I couldn’t watch anything, cause jabber-jaws, was in my ear the whole time!” I know, I admitted, I think he’s mentally challenged.” “No, he’s not.” My son was not convinced, as he was comparing him to my brother. But I had to point out, not everyone has the same, mental disorder.

“I think it was because he was hitting on you!” He said, making it clear, that it was my fault, as usual. I just hope, my son got a clear picture, of this. And he learned a very important lesson; when your mother gives you advice, “Take It!”

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