We have talked a lot recently about the fistpumping dog days (July - August) where it appears athletes are just too hot to pump hard.
It makes our experiences as fans a little lame, and REALLY makes Fistpumps.com lame.
Which is why this fan photo is so apropos...
Oh, what trying times are these, when just reading the paper (or maybe she just learned how to read, I can't really tell) is means for fistpumping. Granted great fistpumping is truly in the fist of the beholder, and call me old fashioned if you'd like, but back in my day, the golden era of fistpumping known as the early 90s (to many historians, simply known as the Neon or "Snap Bracelet" Period) fistpumping was reserved for things that were totally awesome...Like talking to a hot broad on your Zack Morris-esque cell phone...
Or stepping foot out of an elaborate flaming sports car while wearing a suit...
Maybe it's because I am a male shovenist pig and I don't do much reading (except girly mags...but even then there's not too much reading going on...(nudge, nudge) uh thank you very much), but fistpumps belong on the field, in bars, and yes, outside of sports cars that may be seconds away from bursting into flames... but not in Borders!
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