Saturday Morning. I sit in the back booth at the Montana Galley. Helena, the owner, sometime waitress, sometime customer psychologist, sometime mother figure to the teens who arrive just before closing time, 2 am. Busy in the kitchen, her hand waves from the kitchen. I salute back. We have plans. A chick flick later. What ever Helena wants. It's those large brown eyes, and....could be...that blond hair. Oh, boy.I breath deeply, and unfold the paper. I pull out the Sports Section. I do a Sports Column in it, three a week, The Valley Post Picayune. Let's see how they've misspelled my headline, or how much they've cut it this time to make it 'fit' the page. Guys, good people buy this paper to read my stuff, come on.
Nursing a large glass of buttermilk, I take a look.
Sports Section.
'Sports Diet: Box More Nutritious Than Flakes Inside.'
"What," I say.
'UCLA Researches followed 5000 college athletes, for five years. They served each breakfast. One group received flakes in milk, juice, and toast. The other ate pieces of the box in milk, juice, and toast. After five years, physical and psychological test were given. When the results were published, and after repeated calls, we finally contacted a company secretary who said, off the record, "We knew that all along."
"Knew what?" I say. "This paper."
NFL: LA Vikings Favored Over the El Paso Bengals Sunday.
"Wait a minute? What the heck?" I say aloud. "El Paso...What? ... in the NFL?"
'The Los Angeles Vikings Manager Terrell Owens, says they're ready for Sunday's NFL game at the Coliseum, against the El Paso Bengals. Mark Sanchez, and the Vikings are out to extend their league leading 11 and 2 record. The Bengals need to get back in the winning column. Tony Romo, who couldn't seem to mesh with the Cowboys, says it is just a matter of getting the Bengal's running game in gear. Will Donovan McNabb start in place of Tony?
Sanchez? Romo? This Sunday? At the Coliseum? I blink and read it again. "McNabb? Back up quarterback? In El Paso?" I look up at the other customers. Some read newspapers, other search on lap tops, but none look surprised. Are they reading this? I guess not.'A Monster Trade in the NBA. Kobe Bryant to the Bobcats for both Byron Mullens, and D.J. White. Lakers Coach Marv Albert couldn't be happier ...'
"What is Marv Albert doing? He's play by play?" I say aloud. I guess he's seen quite a few games, but manager? What is Jerry Buss thinking? Marv Albert?
I flush. My heart pounds, my face is hot. Athletes eating cardboard? The Vikings playing in the Coliseum? Kobe traded? What is this?
A cloud drifts above my head. Something doesn't feel right here. A cold breeze blows on my face. I look at the top of the page. Yes, it's the Sports Section. It's the Valley Post Picayune. "Wait, this can 't be...?"
'Hold 'em Poker is now an Olympic Sports in the up coming Olympic Games, in Rio...'
"Wait," I say. More cold air. "Olympics Games in Rio?"
More headlines; 'WikiLeaks Leaks List, Failed Drug Test. MLB In Tizzy. The names are a Who's Who of future Hall of Famers. What will be the penalties? Suspensions? Banishments? Will we be watching Little League on ESPN until Commissionaire Scully figures out...?'
'14 years old, 6'10'' power forward Gary Kokomo, Indiana Sixth Grader, has registered for the next year's NBA Draft. The Miami Heat with first pick. Will they pick Kokomo?'
14 year old? In the NBA? Can they do that? Wait.
I look again at the top of the page. Ice, a block of ice, on my neck, and all the way down my back.
The date: October 1, 2015.
Oh my gawd. Oh My Gawd. What? 2015? How can this happen? I can't think.
I glance around, conscious of others watching me mumble to myself. Some stare at me. I want to tell them, shake the paper in the air. I got a newspaper printed in 2015. But I don't. Without breathing, I smile back. And without looking down, I neatly fold the paper. My hands fumble. I know they're still watching me.
But I have the newspaper for October 1, 2015. I blink, the possibilities. My voice rises. "The possibilities."
They all heard that, even Helena, over in the kitchen. I gulp my buttermilk, slide out of the booth, wave, and as I reach the sidewalk, my hands shake, my knees wobble. I glance down at the paper one more time in the sunlight.
"What?"
'...So, will Albert Pujols ever hit another Home Run? It's been three years now...'
.................................
Help comes from:
WikiPedia/ coliseum/ Bobcats/ Angels/
sports.espn.go.com/los-angeles/nfl/
readabilityformulas.com, Google/Images
No comments:
Post a Comment