Blondes vs. Brunettes: A story of football, charity, and making your dad proud

Vigorous/Reluctant Supporters of my Hypercompetitiveness and Do-Goodery,

Before I get to my story, I want to skip right to the punch line. That being, the point where I ask for your support. (But I promise there’s a story. So, even if you have a cold, damaged heart, I’ll do my part to warm it with my triumphant return to blogging.)

The Punch Line

Alzheimer’s is a terrible, awful, merciless disease and I want to crush it with my bare hands. It turns out that open hostility isn’t a winning approach to disease eradication, so instead I’m playing in the Blondes vs. Brunettes charity football game and raising money for the Alzheimer’s Association.

Please Donate

I’m currently in second place (i.e., first loser, i.e., not acceptable, i.e., work harder/dream bigger because I believe in an America where not everybody gets a goddamn medal), and I need your help to be the top fundraiser in Washington, D.C.


To support the Alzheimer’s Association and your ole pal, please click my personal link:

What your donation gets you:

  • A massive high five because I still don’t like hugs


  • A personal and heartfelt email from me (no copy-pasting!), including [boner] jokes and hyperlinks
  • Countless minutes of feeling like you’re a good person who did that good thing that time
  • Tax write-off!
  • Improved standing in the following areas:
    • Karma
    • Sexual attractiveness
    • My personal ranking of humans
    • Santa’s “Nice” list
    • E-Z Pass to cut some people while in line at St. Peter’s gate

Just a quick aside — you are not signing up for a lifetime of my begging for donations from you. When there’s a race or event that I want to participate in, I usually just saddle up and do it because that’s my personal choice. But the more I learned more about Alzheimer’s, I really wanted people need to know and do more about this disease. Because it really sucks.

So, please.  Support this incredible cause, as we aim to tackle Alzheimer’s.

And Now, The Story

So, there I was, warming up the old cannon with Kovacs before a softball game in late July. Sweating mildly, hearing the pop in my glove, and recoiling for another toss when an athletic black man approached me from behind.

For those of you feeling nervous for my well-being, why yes, you are racist. For those of you wondering why it’s even relevant that he’s black, it’s because I wanted to catch the racists. Nailed it!


He introduced himself as Jared, and handed me a football. He told me to throw it. Blushing, I put down my softball glove and gripped the football across the laces, and sent Kovacs a few yards feeper. I drew back my arm and threw right at his numbers.

“So, there’s this team…” Jared said, and went on to describe the Blondes, who each year take on the Brunettes in a charity football game that raises money for the Alzheimer’s Association. Was I interested in playing, he wanted to know. And because I’m not only a sucker for flattery but also a double-sucker for flattery about my athleticism, I gave a sturdy hell yes.


Now, I’m not going to say it was a the tightest spiral you’ve ever seen or that I have a sniper’s accuracy, but I know how to throw a damn football. And maybe I have tiny hands, but they’ve known how to catch since before I can actually remember.

But most importantly, we can all be honest. With these brutalist hamhocks I call legs, a low center of gravity, and the very dainty rectangular core every woman dreams of, I’m naturally built more like Des Bishop than Des Linden. To keep this mesomorphic body off a football field would be un-American.  It’s the sport I was built to play.


I now line up on the other side of the ball — on defense, which makes sense, given my natural instincts from playing soccer for 20 years.  I’ve always been more of a predator than prey.  Besides, as a Jet fan, defense is about the only thing I’ve been proud of in who knows how long.

So on November 14th, I’ll be out there, giving it all I’ve got to make you proud and drive the Blondes to victory.  All I’m asking for is for you to give something to help this underdog come out on top.

Please donate here:

I can’t thank you enough for your support.  I mean it.  Now let’s get out there and WIN THIS THING.


4 thoughts on “Blondes vs. Brunettes: A story of football, charity, and making your dad proud

  1. Brilliant. You are magic! Way to catch the racists! You go show ’em that not only do we have more fun but we are better than they are at a whole lotta stuff – except math.

  2. Kelaine, Great post and I am proud as heaven of you ( I replaced a word because you’re so positive.) I just want to let you know, I forwarded this to my friends(he-men, Siemens, etc.) and hope some commit to donate. I hope you reach your goal before I forget who you are! Love, Dad

    Date: Fri, 16 Oct 2015 11:46:24 +0000 To:

  3. I just pledged $34, as in my football/fantasy football number, which you can borrow for the day if you want.

    I’m declining my custom email to offset the penalty of me not sending you a thank you note for my birthday gifts. THE RULING ON THIS MOTHERF*CKING FIELD STANDS. #SeeWhatIDidThere
    –Beaux Jackson

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