A horse-racing enthusiast was reporting on his latest venture. “I went to the track on the 11th day of the 11th month,” he said to a buddy, “and I arrived exactly at 11. My son was 11 that day, and the 11th race showed 11 horses. So I bet all my money on the 11th horse on the card.”
“And he won?” asked the buddy. “No,” the sportsman replied. “He came in 11th.” — Quoted in Grit
The fellow walked into a bar he had never been in before and ordered a drink. He then asked the bartender if he enjoyed dumb-joke jokes. The beefy attendant leaned over the bar and fixed a withering glare on his customer.
“Listen, buddy,” he growled. “See those two big guys on the left? They’re professional football players. And that huge fellow on your right is a world-class wrestler. That guy in the corner is a champion weight-lifter. And I lettered in three sports at Notre Dame.
“Now,” he continued, “are you absolutely positive you want to go ahead and tell your dumb-joke joke here?”
“Nah, guess not,” the man replied.
“I wouldn’t want to have to explain it five times.” — The Saturday Evening Post
Surprised to see an empty seat at the sports stadium, a devoted fan remarked about it to a woman sitting nearby.
It was my husband’s,” the woman explained, “but he died.”
“I’m very sorry,” said the man. “Yet I’m really surprised that another relative, or friend, didn’t jump at the chance to take the seat reserved for him”.
“Surprised me, too,” she said. “They all insisted on going to the funeral.” — Coffee Break
Every time the battered boxer returned to his corner, his trainer would chant. “He ain’t touchin’ ya! He ain’t touchin’ ya!” And each round, he’d return to the ring and take another beating. After hearing the same chant for the umpteenth time, the boxer finally spoke up.
“Well, if that’s the case, you’d better keep an eye on that referee, ’cause someone’s beatin’ the heck out of me.” — Contributed by Mike Richard in Reader’s Diagest (March, 1996)
Egotistical Harry was always reminding people that he had played college baseball. “I was the James Bond type of player,” he told friends.
“I had all sorts of tricks to confuse the opposition.”
“Batted .007,” his wife added. S.C., News and Courier
What do seven-foot basketball stars do in the off-season? They go to the movies and sit in front of you. —Funny Funny World
Three men were disappointed to learn there were no more seats for the Los Angeles Olympic Games. Undaunted, the first picked up a manhole cover, and went to a stadium guard. “The name is Smith,” he said. “Discus thrower” He was admitted.
The second man found a long sewer pipe and carried it to the gate. “The name is Brown,” he said.
“Pole vaulter” He, too, was admitted. Not to be outdone, the third fellow found a roll of barbed wire. With great confidence, he walked to an entrance. “The name is Jones,” he said. “Fencing!” — Contributed by Catherine Foley in Reader’s Diagest
A prizefighter, having a rough time in his first important fight, was floored in the second round by a powerful punch. With glazed eyes, he tried to look up from the mat.
“Let the referee count,” yelled his trainer.
“Don’t get up until eight”.
The fighter nodded and asked weakly, “What time is it now?” — Sentinel
At the height of the tourist season, a Texan strode up to the desk of a Miami Beach hotel. He was followed by a caravan of bellhops carrying skis, ice skates and other winter-sports gear. The perplexed clerk looked over the entourage, then said to the new guest, “I hate to tell you this, sir, but we never have snow here.”
“That’s okay, m’boy,” boomed the Texan. “It’s coming with the rest of my bags. — Oilweek, Canada
A dutiful wife said plaintively, “I’ve sweltered at baseball games, I’ve shivered through football, I’ve been sunburned and mosquito-bitten on fishing trips. Why can’t you be like other husbands and not take me anyplace?” — Atlanta Constitution. —- O O O
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