BarDown- During the Dallas Stars and St. Louis Blues’ second round matchup, the Dallas Zoo and the St. Louis Zoo made a friendly wager on Twitter that involved scooping up elephant poop in the winning team’s gear. With the series all wrapped up and the Blues focusing on the Sharks, Dallas Zoo Vice President of Guest Experiences Sean Greene stepped up and took one for the team.
Look, I appreciate this guy owning up to his defeat by shoveling a literal shit ton of elephant dung. He just made a crucial mistake in doing so. If there is the potential for you to have to follow up a soul crushing loss by cleaning up the waste of a 12,000 pound animal then you make sure you are prepared to do so immediately after your team's season ends. I know it seems weird to plan for the worst, but this guy needed a helmet, a Blues jersey, and a fresh mound of shit at his disposal within seconds of watching the Stars' championship hopes shoot out of the sky and crash violently back down to Earth. If he had paid up in that moment it wouldn't have even felt like that bad of a settlement. The truest of sports fans take losses hard. Like irrationally hard. Almost like we deserve to be punished for the performance of our favorite players. That's why you never wash away a crippling defeat with an ice cold beer. You drown it in piss warm 'Wild Turkey' straight out of the bottle. Hold the glass and hold the ice, because a good old torching of the rest of your remaining insides is the only way to feel alive after having your heart ripped out of your chest. Scooping poop? That's nothing compared to the level of masochism the die hard fan feels after a Game 7 collapse. I have never been into S&M, but ask me after my team blows a late lead and I might just agree to hire a dominatrix to give me one of everything sans the happy ending. The moments in which your entire mood has been completely compromised by something you had absolutely nothing to do with are the moments in which nothing else can possibly make you feel worse. Not sickness, not verbal or physical abuse, and certainly not the smell of Horton's breakfast. If you have bad news then let me hear it when my cold dead eyes are staring blankly at a bunch of athletes - in the wrong colored jerseys - celebrating on my television screen. That's the point when you can barely feel feelings, never mind acknowledge the aroma of elephant excrement. I respect what this guy did by manning up, but for further reference there was a much more bearable time to do it. P.S. Would have been more fitting if he was forced to shovel shit in a Stars jersey, but I guess I can't hate corporate zoo employees for not understanding how embarrassing bets are supposed to work.
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