Time to go Pro

Every once in a while I recall when I learned the importance of going Pro. I was driving home on a warmish day and at a stoplight, I noticed a bicyclist to my left. Generally, here in Orange County, it's unusual that a bike rider would be on the driver's side rather than on the right side of the road. That was the first thing that caught my eye.

But I realized he was going to turn left, so it made sense he wasn't on my right. He wasn't dressed as one of those superheroes who ride in those cycling crews on weekend mornings. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you need to hit a local Starbucks or Peet's around 9am on a Saturday. The toned folks clicking around wearing tight lycra shorts, the jersey equivalents of NASCAR hoods (except they seem to be advertising Italian coffee makers), and helmets--those are the Pros. The bike rider to my left was built softer, sweating profusely, and was wearing a white t-shirt tucked into tight lycra shorts. That was the second thing that caught my eye.

I'm no Pro cyclist, but apparently there are different grades of lycra shorts. And by different grades, I mean different levels of thickness. And by different levels of thickness, I mean different levels of opacity. Now it just so happens that this particular cyclist had his bike seat set to my eye level and he was leaning forward, poised to zoom out when the light turned green. And when I casually glanced a couple feet to my left, I was faced with his rear in "go" position on his seat.

Honestly, I don't know if he borrowed his wife's aerobic lycra shorts or he just didn't feel like spending the money on the thicker grade of shorts, or if it was the combination of the copious sweating and the shorts straining to start pedaling again, but these shorts were pretty much translucent. And by translucent, I mean sheer enough to notice that it appeared he had opted not to wear underwear. And that, my friends, is the last thing that caught my eye.

Now, I don't care if you're David Beckham or George Clooney, no man is going to look good bending over a bicycle looking like you've got your junk squished into a cheap, black hairnet. I repeat, even that guy who made a baby with Halle Berry can't make it work. And vanity aside, it didn't look very comfortable either.

I wanted to tell this guy, hey, you've bought the bike and helmet. You're out on the road sweating your a$$ off (almost literally). Invest in some thicker shorts, my friend. It's time to go Pro.

So as I embarked on another season of softball as the least valuable player on my company team, I started going to the batting cages every week in an attempt to increase my contribution to this team. And I realized it's time for me to go Pro and confirm my commitment. I invested in some batting gloves. Finally.

And somewhere out there, that cyclist has gone Pro and is wearing comfortable opaque shorts. And I'm sure as he speeds along in ease, he realizes he should have gone Pro a while ago. But how else would I have learned my lesson?

Lesson learned, my friend. Lesson learned.