Stupid Fast

Chapter 35: DID I SAY BARBARIAN?




Because Andrew wasn’t the only one I had to fight.

Ken Johnson.

He was just a couple of weeks from leaving for the University of Iowa, for the big time really. Why did he bother with me? Why was he such a pecker? He worked out half the time at the college and half the time with us at the high school.

When he was with us at weights, he’d do his best to make me look stupid. Usually, he’d just make bad jokes, which fewer and fewer of the honkies laughed at. He’d say crap like “Don’t pop your squirrel nut” when I was squatting. Sometimes, he’d get close to me while I stretched, separated from my classmates, and he’d say, “Team’s so screwed to be depending on a squirrel nut. There’s going to be a lot of disappointment around here come fall.”

“Guess we’ll see,” I’d say.

On one hand, I figured he was right. I didn’t really know how to play football. It’s possible I might fumble every time someone tackled me. At night, when I was half asleep and the barbarian wasn’t in control of my emotions, I’d actually hear Ken’s a*shole voice in my head: “There’s going to be a lot of disappointment around here come fall.”

I could see the headlines in the sports page: BLUFFTON BLOWS AS REINSTEIN’S FUMBLES/BUMBLES FUEL ANOTHER LOSS.

This fact, the fact of my total lack of football experience, scared me. My heart pumped too hard. My mouth was dry. I had to fight.

REINSTEIN CATCHES FUMBLE-ITIS, BLUFFTON DISEASED AGAIN!

Ken Johnson.