So there I was onstage in front of a 100 people. The sun was beating down directly on us and you could smell the sweat and desperation of those on stage. I looked to my right and saw three black mullets. I looked to my left and there were three more mullets standing at attention. I looked down at my feet and thought “what did I just do”? In response to my question I curled my toes under in my yellow shoes and lowered my head in quasi shame. I tried to discreetly pull my swim trunks that I was wearing out of my butt. My yellow jersey billowed gently in the wind and atop my head was a blonde mullet in all its glory. Beats by Dre headphones and floral glasses completed the look. I was pumped. I was primed. South Beach Jagr was destined to become a Travelling Jagr.
So there I stood waiting for the verdict that was to come. It felt like an eternity. I had wanted this for my entire life (but probably more like three weeks). So I waited. The Travelling Jagrs, who had come from North of the Wall, formed a circle to deliberate and decide my fate. I looked one last time at my competition. The three to my right were kids. I thought ” these kids cant beat me”. To my right was a different story. The guy next to me had an actual mullet. He had cut his hair to look like Jagr. He was strong but he failed to pump up the crowd. The last competitor was different though. There was a something in his eye that troubled me. I couldn’t place it at first but then when he spoke it hit me. He was from another county… He was from the Czech Republic. My head swooned. My knees buckled. He was Czech! Jaromir Jagr was Czech. He had pulled out a Czech Republic national Jersey. I knew then I was in trouble. But I thought I still had it in the bag. I had pumped up the crowed, done pushups, sold my soul to become a Travelling Jagr. I was going to win this. Nothing could stop me.
They had a decision. The head Jagr grabbed the mic and turned toward us. My heart was beating like a hummingbird. He told us that we had all done a great job. I knew like everyone else that only two of us actually did. It was South Beach Jagr Vs. Real Live Czech Jagr. I turned around to show off my jersey one last time. They read the name out loud…
First denial washed over me. No, they made a mistake. Then anger. The denial again. Then more anger. They didn’t pick me! They picked Jagrs fourth cousin twice removed. I was crushed. I had already called my mom and told her that I was finally a success. I didn’t know what to do. I had lost everything . I couldn’t rebuild.
Real life Czech Jagr went on to do interviews. I stared at him with envy. He took pictures with fans as I quietly put away my selfie stick. Real Life Czech Jagr was knighted with his Travelling Mullet on Big Red and Ill I could do was replay my loss over and over in my head. Stars say it was an honor just to be nominated and to be considered for the award. I want to tell all of you now that is a lie. It sucks to lose. Where do I go from here? After three gallons of ice cream and some Club Red Shrimp my life is finally getting back to normal. Ill never truly be the same again but this has made me stronger. I hear the Travelling Jagrs will be back and with that hope for another contest. I might dust off the weight vest and get back to training. Oh and by the way Im also learning Czech. Jagrs Krasu! Pojd’me Panthers!