Nervous Pervert Announcer Imagines Every Player in Their Underwear

By Devin Wallace

AKRON, Ohio—Akron Armadillos announcer Cliff Brimster has found a tried-and-true method for dealing with his nervousness while calling games: imagining every chiseled player on the court in their tight, revealing underwear.

The play-by-play announcer for Akron’s semi-professional basketball team revealed that he often stumbled through player introductions before visualizing a court full of Calvin Klein-clad Adonises.

“Imagining the players in their underwear makes me realize they’re no different than me,” said Brimster, changing into a new pair of pants and assuring reporters not to worry about it. “We’re all the same—except they have long, colt-like legs and powerful torsos that could heave me over their shoulders without breaking a sweat. But maybe I want them to sweat… Sorry, what was the question? And where’s the nearest bathroom?”

Brimster, who admitted to being shaky when he first started—though he emphasized that’s the only thing he’ll admit to on the record—said he’s always had some stage fright.

“I never enjoyed public speaking as a kid. Who does? Growing up, I liked all the normal things: shooting hoops, playing video games, ceaselessly gazing at my babysitter while she brushed her hair, imagining it was my teenage hand caressing her blonde locks. Oh, and fishing! Loved fishing.”

The nine-year announcer and three-year platinum member at Joe’s Smut Shack said he has a foolproof checklist to guarantee his success. He described first imagining the players in their underwear, then checking the stat sheet, followed by the scorecard, and finally checking out the assistant coach with the “piping-hot mustache.”

“I’ve been doing this trick since I was little. You can ask anyone—my family, teachers, half a dozen school psychiatrists,” said Brimster, inches from this reporter’s ear.

Barbara Klepstone, the Armadillos’ chief operating officer, said Brimster has come a long way since he began filling in for announcing duties almost a decade ago.

“When he first started, he was green behind the ears, if you know what I mean. Also, his palms and upper lip were very sweaty, especially when interviewing players in the locker room. But we’re proud that we’ve trained him to remain calm in high-pressure situations and numerous legal depositions.”

Klepstone said she couldn’t remember the last time Brimster misremembered a stat—or drilled another peephole in the arena bathroom.

Armadillos color announcer Stu Frankel said he enjoys providing support wherever Brimster needs it.

“I’m always happy to lend a helping hand, but I have to remind him that’s not what I consider a helping hand,” said Frankel, eyeing a teddy bear—Brimster’s gift—whose stitched-on eye appeared slightly off. “I’ll remind him where a certain player was traded from or remind him that millions of viewers at home can hear his low, guttural breathing.”

Brimster said he hopes to inspire kids nationwide who aspire to be announcers. He noted he wouldn’t be where he is today without the help of his biggest mentor: his “weird old neighbor from the 1980s who hung around way too much.”

End of the Bench will have more on this story after we picture all of you naked.

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