Don't Forget to Bring a Towel.

Every year in the NBA, they ask a few of the top rookies what their 'welcome to the NBA' moment is.

Some say, getting picked by Chris Paul, some say getting dunked on by Kevin Garnett, and some say, get me the hell out of here.

I'd fall into the third category.

Every college freshman has their 'welcome to college' moment.

And if your like me, you've had several 'welcome to college' moments.

Like...5.

I think after the first few, they should stop calling it 'welcome to college' moment, and call it 'you are a dumbass, get it right' moment.

The D+'s on midterms, the farts in the weight room, the other D+ on the midterm, more farts, and now...this.

Watch this clip.

And picture me, as Dwight Howard, and Kobe as...say, college.

Now take away the broad shoulders and jumping ability, and replace it with knee sleeves and a naturally born inept-ness for standardized tests of any kind.

Your end result: Sean getting shitted on by those around him in this awkward phase of life that is Freshman year.

It didn't really hit me, until this weekend, when we had our kickoff tournament here at EOU.

We were playing one of the best NAIA schools in the nation, and we beat them by 10 in overtime. It was a great game.

Except for one part.

Midway through the second half, it was a dead ball, and a large, bald, middle aged male in a zebra suit came stomping towards the bench.

He was a referee, and he was sweating excessively.

He looked eerily similar to the referee in the "Celebrity Deathmatch" series, Mills Lane and I was expecting him to saunter over and say "Let's get it on!"

Then decapitate my play-dough made limbs, while Weird Al versus Al Gore, the "main event" are up next.

Turns out he wanted a towel.

He literally ran over to the bench and asked for a towel. Not to wipe a wet spot on the floor, not to waive in the air while we were shooting free throws, not to lay down on a sandy white beach.

No, he wanted a towel to wipe the sweat off of his glistening bald dome.

I found this rather hilarious that an official in an intense game took a break to ask the home team for a sweat-sopping device.

Big smile on my face, gleeful as can be, the referee makes eye contact with me, and he wasn't happy I was laughing at him.

Sweat-head: "What are you laughing at?"

Me: Uh....hard work out there eh?

Sweat-head: At least I've worked a sweat up. At least I've been out here long enough to get a sweat going. Shouldn't you still have your warm-up on?

Me: I feel like Dwight Howard. Minus the broad shoulders and jumping ability. Plus the knee sleeves. Minus the playing time.

This bald man has just shit on me.

Now, I didn't catch it word for word, but I didn't play at all in this game, and I know he was making a wise crack at my playing time, because I looked down the bench to see several of my older teammates cracking up.

Not only was it degrading to no end to get made fun of by a Claymation referee, it was salt in the wounds when my teammates found it equally hilarious that I wasn't playing.

So, I did what any normal 18 year old kid would do. I got up, picked up my chair, and broke it over the top of the referee's head, and drop-kicked every single teammate that has ever wronged me.

Wait, no, that's not what happened at all. I believe i started to smile, jumped over the first row of people, and curled up into my grandmothers arms, and started sucking my thumb.

You win this time, bald referee guy. Until we meet again.


Then maybe I will have the presence of mind to stick my foot out subtlely while you are running the baseline, and send you skidding across the baseline on your chest.

Next time you need a towel, don't ask me, I need it for extra padding to keep my ass comfortable on the bench, right where it belongs.