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
