Pancake!

17. October 2012 · Write a comment · Categories: Humor, Sports · Tags: ,

I yelled, “Nice pancake!” So what? I also yell things like, “Nice swing!” “Nice dig!” “Nice block!” and “Nice serve!” But when I yell about a pancake, others in the crowd turn to look at me.

That’s because people like Delmar don’t know what a pancake is.

Brenda, my niece, had dived to the floor and slid a fully splayed right hand, palm down, beneath the volleyball before it touched the hardwood. That’s called a “pancake,” and it was a nice pancake.

“Nice waffle!” That’s what Delmar yelled only a couple of seconds after I’d cheered for the pancake. He was sitting a few rows up to the right. I don’t know why he was at the game, but he was rooting for the other team. I couldn’t help but to think he was rooting for them just to spite me. Delmar is my son-of-a-bitch neighbor. More »

What If It Goes in the River?

15. October 2012 · Write a comment · Categories: Gravity, Sports · Tags: ,

 

It’s not an island. It’s a riverbank. Maybe a peninsula. It’s a park near the river.

“If it goes in, we have to get it,” Cyndy said.

“I wouldn’t worry either way,” Ted said.

“It was my brother’s.”

“Someone’s going to have to really smash it for it to reach the river.”

The Interstate crosses near here. The passing cars, trucks and motorcycles make roars in a vacuum, loud clicks echoing beneath. One of the pillars supporting the bridge was painted white partly, and black numbers teased what Cyndy hoped were impossibly high flood marks.

Cyndy’s brother had crashed through the barrier on the other side, but the river was the same. These waters and currents are the same.

People call this an island, she thought to herself. It’s not. It’s a park below the boulevard and near the river. Ted watched as she gazed, and they waited without conversation as others arrived. More »