…the Chicago Cubs made a sports reporter their general manager…one look at the record will show you how much sports reporters knows about sports…
Monroe D. Underwood
The Radish River Possumcats played their home games at the Radish River High School stadium.
The Radish River High School was in the process of collapsing from old age but the stadium was new and sparkling.
It had a seating capacity of approximately fifteen thousand.
There was a glossy macadam track that circled the emerald-green football field.
The vast banks of floodlights would have done credit to any major league park in the country.
There was an ultramodern scoreboard some four stories tall.
It was rigged to fire aerial bombs in celebration of Radish River scores.
If any.
On my way to the locker room I passed a giant sign that read DEATH TO THE INVADERS SHOW NO MERCY SLAUGHTER THE DIRTY NO-GOOD BASTARDS THREE CHEERS FOR RADISH RIVER POSSUMCATS HIP HIP HOORAY HIP HIP HOORAY HIP HIP HOORAY HIP HIP HOORAY.
RADISH RIVER CHAMBER OF COMMERCE
Suicide Lewisite greeted me with a firm handshake.
He introduced me to the team as a reporter for a national sports publication.
One of the players said what’s the name of the national sports publication?
I said National Sports Publication.
The player said oh yeah the National Sports Publication.
The team chaplain’s name was Reverend H.F. Brimstone.
Reverend H.F. Brimstone was a tall emaciated man with glaring gray eyes.
He stepped forward to offer the pregame prayer.
He raised his hands.
He said every head bowed and every eye closed please.
In a solemn stentorian voice Reverend H.F. Brimstone said oh Lord of Hosts who delivered Daniel from the lions’ den and Shadrach from the fiery furnace not to mention Meshach and Abednego we ask now for Thy greatest miracle which would prevent these Radish River Possumcats from blowing this one by more than forty-nine points repeat Lord forty-nine points.
He said Blessed Redeemer in Thy boundless mercy see to it that only the minimum be maimed for life and we plead for the souls of those who will most certainly die in the coming hours of black defeat and we pray for the bereaved parents who shall have snatched from them this night their sons and whose doors on the bleak morrow of despair will bear wreaths of sorrow yea sweeten their bitter cups Lord and with these humble requests we send our gallant youngsters forth to be massacred on the gory field of combat Amen.
When every head was raised and every eye was opened it developed that half the Radish River football team was missing.
It also developed that the remaining half refused to take the field.
Suicide Lewisite was on the verge of tears until the locker room telephone rang.
He answered it and broke into a beaming smile.
He crashed the phone back into its cradle.
He said all right fellas let’s get the hell out there!
He said Zanzibar McStrangle is on the sidelines waiting to play for good old Radish River!
The Possumcats gave a lusty cheer and charged through the door into the night.
Suicide Lewisite looked at me.
He said you have just heard Reverend H.F. Brimstone’s very last prayer for the Radish River Possumcats.
He banged his locker door shut with a vengeance.
He said next week I am replacing that crepe-hanging bastard with a goddam witch doctor.
Before we went out Suicide Lewisite said be careful when we step into the open.
He said in Radish River they take their football very seriously.
He said one of these crackpots brought a squirrel rifle to the opener.
He said he gunned down twenty-two flying footballs before we could get the sonofabitch arrested.
When the crowd saw Suicide Lewisite a great roar went up.
Cantaloupes and tomatoes and aged eggs flew from every direction.
Some people gnashed their teeth and others tore their hair and a great many frothed at the mouth and all of them cursed horribly.
I heard any number of comments regarding the morals of Suicide Lewisite’s mother.
There were those in attendance who offered Suicide Lewisite advice on how to conduct his sex life.
The preponderance of this advice had to do with geese.
Galloping geese.
Suicide Lewisite ducked a tomahawk that embedded itself in a goalpost.
He ducked a copy of An Inquiry Into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations.
By Adam Smith.
He ducked an old washing machine motor which someone had neglected to remove from the old washing machine.
He ducked an enormous white-leather Bible with gilt-edged pages and a gold cross on its front.
He said if you think this is something just stick around for the Annual Radish River Roman Chariot Race which is to be held at halftime of next week’s game with the Sycamore Center Ridgelings.
I said how does it work?
Suicide Lewisite said it doesn’t.
He said the event is open to any nutty local businessman who can scrounge up a busted-down horse and a makeshift chariot and a bed sheet.
He said last year there was a high wind and three chariot drivers got their sheets blown off.
He said they got arrested for indecent exposure and two of them came down with pneumonia and one of them damn near died and all three of them lost the race and it seems there must be better ways to spend one’s time.
He said just the thought of such foolishness makes me want to commit suicide.
He said by comparison even football makes sense.