Imagine yourself in a multiplex movie theater. Curiously, no walls separate the half-dozen theaters that form the multiplex. Miraculously, you are watching six different screens all at once, thoroughly understanding and enjoying every scene, word, character.
Welcome to ADHD.
[You in the Real World, be sure to click on the red underlined hyperlinks! And know these accounts are true … without exaggeration!]
Baseball is not merely a national pastime at Florida State University.
Far from it! agrees Screen Six.
There among the famed college-age players, muses One, the sport brings meaning to life, rhyme to reason, gain to pain.
The Seminoles’ Mike Martin, winningest –
Is “winningest” even a word? questions Three.
– coach in the school’s history, believes there is baseball. And nothing beyond baseball.
Which explains why it is unfortunate that outstanding catcher Barry Blackwell and equally renowned pitcher Richie Lewis are late for today’s spring practice. This also explains why the two players’ panic levels are reaching record highs.
“Got to … retrieve … my car!” explains Richie, breathing hard as he runs through a fenced yard in search of his impounded vehicle.
“Not … good idea,” says Barry, who himself will have not-good ideas years later as he swims among sharks with freshly speargunned groupers tied to his body.
Yet the two young men continue propelling themselves through the locked area, passing relics others once considered transportation treasures.
Quotes Three unbidden, “One man’s treasure is another man’s – ”
“Dog!” shouts Richie. “Aughhh, Barry! We’ve got to outrun it!”
Screen Six laughs because he thinks much the way Barry thinks, which means he knows Barry’s singular thought is, “Actually, I only have to outrun you, Rich.”
Barry does just that, reaching the chain-link fence ahead of Richie and scrambling over without hesitation. His companion, however, fares less remarkably, presenting the maddened mongrel with a perfect place for planting teeth.
Such a bite, laments Five.
Leaving behind more than just regrets, Richie finally scales the barrier and leaps to freedom. The two flee a short distance, then assess rearward damages. Barry serves as the horrified eyes. Richie serves up horrified sighs.
“I’m done for,” wails the pitcher. “Insurance won’t cover this unless it happens during a baseball activity.” So he hustles to the practice, changes discreetly to avoid revealing his wounds, races out to the field and pretends to slip on still more fencing and railing strewn about the field.
Barry recoils at the intensity with which Rich throws himself onto the fence. “Got to make it look real,” gasps comrade Lewis, who then limps in to home base and discussion with Coach Martin about the fresh injury he has just received while practicing.
Sent off to see a trainer, Richie drops drawers and unveils his bloodied buns. The trainer reels, then steps into professional mode and, courageously combating cookie-tossing, examines the shredded flesh. “This … this is way beyond just falling on fencing,” he expertly gauges. “The injuries are synonymous with – well, with bites. Terrible dog bites!”
“No!” Richie vehemently denies. “I’m telling you, I tripped over the fencing and slid along it. That’s what ripped me up!”
“But you have big teeth marks here and here and here!” the confused trainer replies as he points. “You’ve been bitten – multiple times!”
“They’re not bites and I’ve got witnesses. Now, do your job and check me out.” The trainer silently agrees and pulls up a stool for the dressing of the injuries.
Marvels One, I do believe the impossible deception is about to occur.
“Oh, and while you’re at it,” Richie adds casually, “could you check for rabies?”
* * * * *
Blackie’s Weekly Wonders
Tiny Titus honors another national pastime
“Uptown Funk” … with old-time dancers
Still another pastime has its own dangers