My brother and I are sitting on the couch watching football, his eyes glued to two screens, one of men running into each other, one of lists and charts and numbers and nicknames that change whether or not the men hit each other. The referee pops up to make an announcement about an event that took place a few minutes prior, when the men had run into each other in the wrong place at the wrong time. I say, �Wow,� as the voice reverberates all around the stadium and into the top floor Lower Nob Hill studio. I say, �That�s that guy�s job,� as my brother laughs the quick kind of chortle that bursts from you when you didn�t expect something funny to happen.
We watch a slow motion version of a man running towards another man�s swinging foot, hoping to make contact with it. My brother says, �He gets kicked in the face for a living.� My brother says, �Do you have any idea how hard it is to try to get kicked in the face?�