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WHY CAN"T I BE A SPORT'S JOCK, TOO? Jack watched Stone from the bleachers as he ran down the length of the football field, cradling the ball like it was the last pizza on earth. Stone was an evil football player, pushing the other guys in the groin, spitting in their helmets when the referees weren't looking and mouthing at his team mates, letting them know that "he" was carrying the game. Jack observed Stone with thoughtful eyes as the crowd around him cheered for the home team. Stone was so perfect, so cocky, so popular, so jock that it was sickening. And he was so lean. Jack couldn't figure than one out. Stone ate more than the entire team put together without gaining an ounce. Sure, he worked out, but there wasn't any way that he could work off that load of food.
Jack wondered how Stone got away with being so cruel to everyone, so rude and overbearing. He was even harsh to the team's mascot, a Shetland pony who currently stood impatiently watching on the sidelines, his master barely able to contain him. So just how did Stone get away with being so evil? Was it his looks? He certainly wasn't much on brains, even though most of his teachers charted him up with an 'A' because they knew the team was dead without Stone - THE most valuable player for the last 2 years. Life wasn't fair. Wasn't there any justice? Jock broke out into a howling laugh as Stone suddenly tripped on the sidelines, spiraling face-forward into the gift just deposited by the team's mascot. Justice indeed was alive and well! |
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