For the first weekend since August, there was no football. A week after a Sunday spent watching the Patriots make the greatest Super Bowl comeback in history, we got some crazy roided out East German women  battling it out in the CrossFit Games… How many guys out there walked into an AMBUSH this weekend, a Sunday afternoon with absolutely NO PLAN for what they were supposed to be doing?

Closets across America finally got cleaned out. Dead lightbulbs got changed. Mall benches were packed — guys on their smart phones waiting out their lady’s quick drop-in at Lulu…hell, I did it with Janet, but not for her. But for Jake, because he needed a suit for the winter formal.

Point being, there was no way out: no way to say, I’m in lock down mode for all that Sunday NFL. There wasn’t any. We’re, finally out of excuses with the sports calendar stuck in no-man’s land until March Madness gets cranked up.

But I’m not sure anybody had it worse than the Sparrow. After spending January ruining his Jungle reputation guzzling Hawkwafina, Hawk got buzzsaw’d.

He ran in a COUPLES 10K. Though is it technically called Running if you stop 5 times for oxygen and finish DFL in your 4-man crew? Hawk’s race stats are incredible. 1192nd place — JUST cracking the 50th percentile. 11:21 pace. 735th out of 1,171 men.

Excuses were flowing. Headcold. Hilly terrain. But Hawk legit brought his participation medal into the office — which I guess they were still passing out 80 minutes after the starting gun fired.

So in the end. You wreck your rep upon showing up here, probably had the most miserable month of your entire life: no booze, nothing good to eat; nothing to look forward to. And for what? So you could show up and run dead last in a 10k.

Hawk – let me get this straight. You spent the month of January TRAINING for this. Like literally jogging at night. You didn’t have a drink all month, not even when you were on a road trip with the boss. You didn’t eat ice cream. You were “microwave fish at the office guy” for WEEKS, eating clean and rubbing it in everybody’s face with your healthy almond snacks. And then you post THAT time? With what? A torn ACL? A ruptured Achilles. Both?

Surely, some old lady tripped at the one mile mark and you had to carry her on your back the last five miles, right? Because if none of that is true, you trashed your Jungle rep and went through the most miserable month of your life… All too BARELY crack the top 1,200.

Not only did you virtually finish dead last. You’re dragging ass around the office, like you have two broken legs. Like you literally can’t walk. Or talk. Seriously, sparrow, what the hell do you have to say for yourself?!?


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