Secret to Life: Getting Everyone to Believe You Have a Big Dick Without Ever Having to Prove It...
VladimirFLoyd. Getty Images."The secret to life is getting everyone to believe you have a big dick without ever having to prove it."
To most males, exaggerating the size of their Johnson is an acceptable form of self-preservation. There's click-bait, and then there's dick-bait. Both are effective in creating interest, and in some cases, irresistible temptation. If you got it, flaunt it. If you don't, talk about it, right? But what happens when you're called to task and have to produce the goods? Sometimes, the guy who acts like he's got the biggest dick in the room is all talk and no cock, and other times his name is Bubba, and not the ideal cellmate…
I coached little league baseball for quite a while, and after I attended a hitting seminar at a local Holiday Inn where former major leaguer Mike Epstein, who played for Ted Williams when he managed the Washington Senators ('69-'71), discussed "Rotational Hitting", many people began considering me a good hitting instructor. I was an assistant varsity coach and the hitting instructor for freshman, J.V., and varsity at a local vocational school back in 2006, where I helped a lot of kids with their hitting technique.
One kid was going to "Hit Dog Training Center" in Stoughton, Mo Vaughn's baseball school, and it wasn't cheap. Even after private lessons, he still couldn't hit a lick! Nothing but weak dribblers. He was fortunate to be an above-average starting pitcher who could throw strikes, or he might've never seen the playing field.
Then, one day, it rained, and we moved practice indoors to the small gym. I took the kids upstairs to hit plastic golf balls into a net. I was soft tossing and watching this kid hit, and that's when I noticed his front foot remained pointed toward the plate during his swing, preventing his hips from rotating. I stopped him and told him to rotate his front foot forward 45 degrees, and to try swinging from there. Immediately, he started making hard contact. I kept him in a "no-stride stance", so all he had to concentrate on was "hips leading hands", and you know what? He started driving the ball. His father thanked me and admitted to spending a shit-ton of money at Hit Dog without getting any noticeable results.
Am I a hitting guru? No, but I did spend part of one evening at a Holiday Inn Express! All kidding aside, I was very good at picking up on small technique problems and helping kids correct them.
I ran the Norton Summer League from 2002-2004, and I was always trying to make playing baseball fun. One year, we had a home run derby, and I included a coach's derby as well. The kids were excited to see their coaches swing an aluminum bat and hit home runs on a Little League field. I was doing the pitching.
All the coaches knew exactly what was at stake in this home run derby, and it wasn't just bragging rights. It had more to do with the size of their dicks. Teddy Roosevelt once said, "Speak softly and carry a big stick". They all carried big sticks, but by the end of the home run derby, who, in eyes of the spectators, would have the biggest dick?
Rob was the first up. He's about 5 foot 10 and built like a WWE wrestler, and every bit as animated. He was a carpenter and wicked strong. Immediately, he started driving the ball to left-center, high and deep, over the tree tops. They were McGwire-Esq., and the kids were going crazy with each blast. He walked back to the dugout after his hitting display, dick dragging on the ground.
Next up was Ed; he's a big guy, six foot three, and the only coach swinging from the left side. He turned on the ball quickly and started driving balls over the treetops in right. He matched Rob swing for swing, and I gotta say, I was impressed. The kids were in awe… By the time he stepped out of the batter's box and began walking back to the dugout, his dick was dragging on the ground too…
Next up was Bob; he's a short, wide guy, built like a fire hydrant. I heard he was a really good softball player, but I'd never seen him hit. Holy shit! This guy was driving the ball to left, and although his shots weren't as high and deep as Rob's, his exit velocity was scary, especially since I was only 46' away and without a pitching net to protect me. The man could hit, and after displaying his power, he was smiling and dragging his dick back to the dugout too…
Each of the first three guys hit between 10 and 12 home runs in what were very impressive hitting displays, and walking back to the dugout after hitting, their dicks were dragging on the ground beneath them in a display of utter confidence, not too unlike a proud peacock strutting its stuff while fanning out its plumage.
Next up was Chuck, undeniably, the rock star of the coaches. I was tossing pitches in his wheelhouse, middle-middle, but he was hitting on top of the ball and pounding topspin ground balls and line drives that were absolute lasers, but none that went over any portion of the 4' high chain link fence 200' away. I told him to start swinging with a slight uppercut, but that didn't help. At the end of his 15 swings, he hadn't hit any out. I could sense his disappointment, but he was a great guy, the kids loved him, and not hitting any dingers didn't hurt his reputation as a coach one bit. I'm pretty sure there was no dick-dragging after his performance, though. He joked about it and then said, "You're up, Vin. I'm pitching…" It sounded like a challenge, that maybe he was gonna dial it up a notch and try and get some swing 'n misses…
Rob, Ed, and Bob set the bar high, but Chuck softened the expectation. I figured all I had to do was hit a few out, and everything would be good. I was feeling the pressure when I stepped into the batter's box. It was time to prove myself to all the kids I'd been coaching. You could say the size of my dick was on the line. As I settled into my stance, I was thinking that each home run equaled one inch…
I started slow, and with just three swings left, I was holding at 4, not exactly a dick-dragging number… I stepped out of the box and reminded myself, "hips leading hands"… "swing with a slight uppercut"…
I got back in the box, dug my feet in, and then went through my pre-at-bat preparations. I was ready to go deep…
Fortunately for me, I hit the final three out, none were monster shots, but they were well-struck. I left sporting a good seven inches, definitely a respectable dick-dragging number in my book…
In defense of Chuck, I told the kids every team needs table setters, guys who get on base ahead of the sluggers.
What I didn't tell 'em was, "Not everybody's a dick-dragging home run hitter, but, if they're being completely honest, they wish they were…"
* Congrats to Aaron Judge, who, after hitting #62, is now the all-time, single-season dick-dragging home run leader in the American League!