Yeah, that's right. I don't care if it's the Aggro Crag, the Mega Crag, or the Super Aggro Crag. I would dominate them all. Eight actuators? Please. I'll hit ten. I'll hit them, run down and un-hit them, then run back up and hit them again, all while Blue and Purple are wiping the glitter--I mean "snow"--off their goggles in a futile attempt to spot the actuator they failed to hit.

You're probably wondering what the hell I'm talking about. Well, if you weren't born in the early to mid eighties and didn't live and thrive off Nickelodeon, then you haven't lived a fulfilling life. I'm talking about reigning supreme at the greatest Nickelodeon sports game known to man, and no, that doesn't mean Wild 'n Crazy Kids or Double Dare. Fuck Finders Keepers and Figure It Out. I'm referring to GUTS. The Mike O'Malley hosted, Moira ref'd, spotters galore GUTS. And I would kick ASS.

Sure, I'm 23 years old, And sure, GUTS doesn't even air new episodes any more. Doesn't matter. When I watch reruns on Nickelodeon Games and Sports for Kids, I scoff at the sheer ineptitude of these kids. Come on, you're supposed to represent the best of the best! The utmost elite of kids age 11 to 15! You're not supposed to start crying during Mad Max when you run your bike off the track and cost yourself first place! Instead, you brush the dust out of your flat-top fade hairdo and proceed to kick some serious ass at Invisible Boat. That's what it takes to win.

These kids clearly don't deserve to take home a glowing piece of the Crag. How can they scale the mountain if they get winded from diving through the Bungee Jungle? GUTS takes stamina. It takes strength, perseverance, and, in my case, a driver's license and the ability to buy alcohol. Nevertheless, these kids don't thirst for victory. How can they when they play like utter crap? It's called hustle, fatty, and it's what'll get your ass to the finish line.


My holy grail. Oh man, I want it.

I deserve the gold medal. I can hustle. I can throw stuff into a net for two minutes straight. I'm not above shoving my competitors out of the way or clubbing them in the knees for a first place finish. I'll even pretend to think Mike O'Malley's funny! Why? Because I'm willing to do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes to proudly display that green chunk of Crag on my mantel. Whatever it takes to wear my gold medal wherever I go and say, "Oh, this? It's just my gold medal from GUTS, no big deal." Whatever it takes.

D-d-d-do I have it? Shit yeah I do.

(Check back for my next two installments, "I'd Have Totally Gone to Space Camp if it Weren't for That Fucking Shrine of the Silver Monkey" and "Shut the Fuck Up Phil Moore, I'm Trying Not to Get Pegged in the Face by Coconut-Throwing Monkeys.")