Let me win. But if I cannot win, let me be brave in the attempt.

This is the creed of the atheletes in the special olympics. For those of you who do not know, the special olympics is a series of games involving people of all ages with mental retardation. I had the opportunity to volunteer at this years Special Olympics Summer Games in North Carolina this past weekend.

Special Olympics North Carolina is the largest special olympics program in North America with over 34,000 atheletes competing in some capacity state wide and it is the fifth largest program in the WORLD (ph3ar us).

We, the volunteers, had to show up two days prior to the actual games so we could set up and get everything ready for the weekend. These two days shall henceforth be know as the "two days from hell" and let me tell you why. First, I left my camera in the car. If I had driven myself, this would be no big deal, but I did not, and my camera turned around and went 3 and 1/2 hours back home. So, no pictures. Not a good start.

Next were these God forsaken tshirts. I am a self professed "big ass man" and by no sense of the word do I even resemble "small." (hello ladies) So, they send us an email two weeks earlier telling us "you're all supposed to wear the same tshirts while you're here so people will know who you are and what you're doing. Send us your sizes." So I did. When it comes time to get our shirts, they don't have my big ass man size. Apparently they had already ordered shirts before they even sent the email out. If you just thought "what the fuck" then you are right. I ended up having to get another tshirt that was another color which ultimately caused a deal of confusion. (I was with a special group that had special shirts, we had special duties at the special olympics. It was special.) However, I'm not one to sweat the small stuff, so enough with that noise. Let's carry on with the festivities.

Our volunteer director was not the most "together", "coordinated", or "cordial" person to deal with. To put it bluntly, she was a bitch and I did not like her. Of course we had to set up all the outside envents in a thunderstorm after a fucking tornado had touched down just a town over. Of course her "people" sent us all over fucking creation just to hurry up and wait and of course at the end of the day she gets pissed and loses her shit at us. "Fuck this noise," I says to myself, "I'm a damned volunteer, this is bullshit." and it was. Whenever I would get down, there was always a hot chick or two that would "lift my spirits" so to speak. By that I mean I would undress them with my eyes. They weren't exactly "hot to trot" at the special olympics and I'm creepy like that. None the less, it worked.

This whole attitude changed friday evening, however. The atheletes were there and it was time for the opening ceremonies. I was to assist the delegation from Randolph county. I would lead them in through the "parade of atheletes" and escort them to their seats. While we were waiting, one of the atheletes walked up to me. His name was Eddie. He was about 6' 4" and weighed about 350 pounds. He was going to be competing in the weight lifting competition. Holy shit this dude was huge. This fellow came up and gave me the biggest hug I have ever had in my entire life. I was overwhelmed. And I mean I was really overwhealmed, that dude hugged me hard. After he was finished squishing what used to be my spleen, he asked me to feel his muscle (On his arm, you pervert).

The low-light of this deal was when Miss North Carolina arrived to greet the atheletes. She was the most fake, put-on, harlot that I had ever seen. However, I felt a sick vindication in the fact that she was being groped by hundreds of special olympic atheletes (who, by the way, knew what they were doing. I heard them bragging about it. Hell, I almost went to get me a handful.) But, yeah.

The opening ceremony was nice. They kept it short so they could hold the crowd. There was a special song sung by this guy who looked a lot like Kenny G and his bass player looked a lot like sliquid, but the bass player's wife looked nothing like scarlette (Sliq, do you have an ugly, redneck concubine in North Carolina? Sorry to call you out if you do) and the lighting of the "Flame of Hope" was truely outstanding. But most of all, there were 1,700 atheletes there, representing the 34,000 from accross the state. Seeing them all together in one place and knowing what they went through to get there was inspiring.

The next day I watched volleyball all day. That was a real treat and there were some really exciting matches. Then I went home. I had to jet a little early because of some problems with my transportation, but it was pretty much over.

Was it worth all the grief? Absolutely. Would I do it again? Hell no.