And Somewhere, Off in the Distance, Tommy Tune Smiled

Three years ago, I entered my first Golden Testicles competition. What did I know about anything? I grew up on a ranch that was actually a farm, 50 miles from the nearest town, and 75 miles from the nearest woman born after 1950. All I had was my package.

In retrospect, the day that commuter plane caught on fire and the country's leading Testicle Scout was forced to parachute onto my family's property was the most important one of my life. I liked to work the fields naked. Who didn't? He took one look at me, produced a contract from his smoking backpack, and my fate was gelded. . . .

It was a normal rodeo, except that we were all naked, and they weren't judging us on how well we did rope tricks, or rode the bulls. All they cared about was how our nuts held up to the pressure. I guess mine did OK, because when I whipped off my chaps for the first time, a clown fainted.

I don't want to spoil it for you, but I don't think it will ruin anything if I say, the kid with one ball from Nowhere Special wins it all. Now, you might think telling you the ending would spoil it, but it doesn't, because the joy of this story is the journey, not the destination.

I promised myself I wasn't going to cry, but here I go. Excuse me a minute, won't you?