We all feel like losers from time to time, but what if your job was to lose, day after day, for decades on end, in front of crowds around the world? That's the trade of the gentlemen who play basketball for the Washington Generals, the straight-men in the Harlem Globetrotters show, and every game has to look competitive. Yet just once, forty years ago today, the Generals took matters into their own hands. Joe Posnanski's epic tale of one man's career built on winning by losing gives you everything you need to know. Commenter Jstas had a more representative experience of losing it during what should have been an engine-bay photo moment:
I don't think I've ever stood in an empty engine bay for a picture. I have been in one to fix a firewall and a radiator support though.
I do know that there is a picture of me somewhere under a gray, 1983 Mustang GT, in the snow, with my head in a puddle while bench pressing a T5 in to place and screaming at my "friend" to put the camera down and get me the cross member bolts.
Shortly after that picture was taken, that same "friend" decided it was prudent to actually help instead of standing idly by giggling like an idiot. Probably because it was freaking cold outside and he wanted to be inside where it was warm.
Well, he went all gung-ho and put the cross member up and pinned the clutch cable between the cross member and the mounting bracket on his side. I was struggling to get my side in because of this genius move. I ended up hammering the bolt in to the hole just to hold it up so I could take a breather and figure out what was wrong.
Once I got that done, he says "Gimmie that hammer." He SAYS he told me to hold the mount up but I never heard him. He went all Buddy Whackit on his bolt and fired it out of place in one shot. Just in time for me to turn my head around and see a 150 pound transmission and cross member plummeting towards my head and landing on my face.
It really hurt.
I'll bet that hammer hitting him in the back hurt like hell too. Then again, it probably would have hit him in the front if he wasn't running like a little bitch.