a little chant went off inside his head when he was forced to dig in by his unorthodox pain

he liked to think it was involuntary  that he didnt summons it  but hed be lying

Hh e a ll

a single word up from a subterranean vault  percolating  scratching the fissure walls as it clumsily came whenever he tried mounting stairs on his bum legs or going up hills

pain flooding him  coarse  oily-tinged  like sewage backup

he didnt have any choice in the matter

he could desist 

become a lousy shut-inbut why would he do that

if he made people uncomfortable while he stalked about like a Frankenstein monster or had to pick things up two-handed because independently they were shabby  knuckles look like theyd been broken by a wiseguy because he failed to make good on dark loans 

their discomfort witnessing him didnt rise to the level of his pain so for all he cared they could avert their eyes ignore him he wasnt going to stop going out among them

he remembered when and where his knee was first attacked setting its course to this moment

courtesy of a Mexican winger

he was playing soccer on invite in Chicagos City League against its ethnic teams

the Inner-City thought it would be interesting(with a wry smile) to allow his suburban All-White team to play against their Clubs

their All-White team gratefully thanked them(smiling back  a wicked Cheshire grin)

they rolled through the City Clubs twice and earned a berth in the North Shore Division Championship play-offs

first year they took Second losing 2-1  then bitched all teams their second year and won the Championship 5-1

that first year his Mexican winger cheapshot him  

sprawled off to the side of the field on his end clumps of grass still tight in his fists he grimaced to a sub Get Joses name woudja

circling back the sub said Got it

Whaas his name

Jose

Christ

he healed quickly

thats what youth gives you that you take for granted

he healed in time to face the Mexicans again

hed be lying if he said he wasnt using the game as incentive

he hustled Jose

he played the gimp

he loved watching that yellow grin spread out under Joses shaggy moustache as he underplayed him and took feigns that he knew were feigns

his teammates backed his play

down 2-0 Jose surreptitiously(though scarcely) petitioning his teammates all game finally convinced them he could beat him up the sideline on a long pass

Jose was a decent winger

he saw it develop

they played it nicely

their right fullback was accurate  had a powerful leg

they crossed to him in the defensive end  

BAM!

off to the races

he dropped his hustle

Jose was surprised

but not as surprised as when he deliberately chucked him with a shoulder after Jose whipped the side of his face trying to catch an eye with an errant finger then leveled him with a blatant elbow to the bridge of his nose exploding blood snorts out of both nostrils

its hard to breath

its harder to see when both eyes are shot-through with tears

its hardest to run when laying flat on your back kicking up sideline chalk in distress

he was ejected from the game

to add injury to insult off the direct kick his team reversed field with a tremendous header by a fullback to an inside who moving left drew the defense to its right

the inside crossed a long ball right to a streaking winger who had one D to beat for a one-on-one with the goalie

beat the D and the goalie

they were up 3-0 with less than twenty minutes(if anyone paid attention)

they left the Mexicans their field their excellent-smelling after-game barbecue and laboring under a 4-0 loss

he didnt know the extent of Joses injury any more than Jose knew of his three games earlier

feigned sportsmanship is ugly  repugnant

better to be honest and recognise paybacks are hell

he hadnt learned to chant Hh e a ll then

his body was on Automatic Pilot 

and for that he was particularly reckless

he carelessly threw his body around

and fearlessly 

his reputation preceded him

and when a reputation incites intimidation

striking fast codifies it

opposing offenses conceded the whole right-third of their field and virtually allowed him to become a ghost to appear and disappear wherever he wanted

he wasnt a ghost now

a lumbering blotch that made sidewalks parking lots and slowly-crossed streets unsightly

and since no one cared to pause they couldnt hear in his labored breathing the soft lavender-coloured word  Hh e a ll

Hh e a ll

Hh e a ll

  

1414,  Saturday,  9  7. 16 

 0925,  Monday,  11 7. 16