Why no one will mistake me for John Wesley

Here's a list of reasons why no one will mistake me for John Wesley, the 18th century preacher and leader of the Methodist Movement.
1) He was barely five feet tall. I'm 6'2".
2) He rode over 100K miles on horseback. I've never ridden a horse.
3) He died in 1791. I'm still alive, at least I was when I wrote this.
4) He was known in part for preaching to thousands in the open air. I'm not so good at that.

I'll elaborate on that last one. My youngest son plays flag football in a local Upward league. At every practice, there is a devotional time. Children earn stars for Scripture memorization, great game play, and demonstrating Christlikeness. On game day, there is a devotional at halftime of all the games. I was asked earlier in the week to give the devotional at yesterday's game. I'll probably never get asked to do that again.

Let me begin by saying I hate the sound of my own voice. Whenever I preach in a church, I always request that the stage monitors be turned off. There's not a problem whenever I'm speaking in an situation without a sound system because I've learned to ignore my voice. If only I could have done that yesterday. Or had a set of earplugs and earmuffs.

When halftime came, I stood in the middle of the three football fields, using a wireless mike. Because of the location of the speakers and sound board, there was about a one second delay between when I would actually say something and then hear it myself. I began pausing between every word because I kept hearing it twice. Imagine an old 45 record (for those of you born before cassette tapes) played at 33 rpm. Try as I might, I could not ignore the delay and speak in a normal speed.

As I looked around at the crowd, the 200 or so parents all had a forgiving smile on their faces. I know that I sounded quite a bit country fried, even for this part of this country. When I returned to the sideline, my "supportive" wife (please read sarcasm in that description) was doubled over in laughter. In her words, I sounded like "a stroke victim". Trying to put a positive spin on things and save what little dignity I had left, my response to her was, "Well, I'll not be asked to do it again and that will be one less thing I'll have to prepare."

I wonder how John Wesley would have done in that situation.