WINNING THE GAME
by OPOVV, ©2016
(Oct. 30, 2016) — “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the show that everyone talks about: ‘Pulse of the Nation.’ Hello, I’m your Roving Reporter standing under the awning across from the railroad station waiting to interview people just like you.
“Good morning, sir, and…”
“They didn’t win last night and it’s all your fault. Well, maybe not yours personally, but yours nevertheless professionally.”
“What in tarnation are you talking about? I was sitting at home; well, actually that’s not 100% accurate. I was lying in bed watching the game, so how could I have anything to do with anything? You’re beginning to sound like my ex-wife.”
“I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s just that they’re masters at messing up.”
“You’re talking about the Cubs?”
“Of course I’m talking about the Cubs; what do you think? You think I was discussing world politics, specifically the US Navy in the Persian Gulf? I was in the Navy when I was a young whippersnapper and I wouldn’t have run from those Iranian inflatables. Why, an Indian, a Sioux Indian, could’ve put an arrow in any one of those boats and sunk ‘em, then we could’ve ‘rescued’ them, like they did to us, and make them cry on television. Show them pictures of pigs and BBQ sandwiches. Show them an episode about ‘Famous Memphis BBQ Joints.’”
“Whoa! Hold on, pardner, I’m on your side. I saw the game and I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
“You do? Prove it.”
“End of the 9th; 2 out and 2 men on. The batter has a 2-2 count. And then the announcer says, ‘One swing of the bat wins it.’ It was over. I tell you, had the zebra – umpire – overheard the announcer say that he would’ve ended the game right then and there and yell, ‘FORFEIT!’… There’s only 2 things you never but never do at a ball park: one is mention that the picture has a no-hitter going when he has a no-hitter going, and the second is that you don’t say, when the count is 2-2 at the end of the 9th when you’re behind 1-zip, ‘One swing of the bat wins it.’”
“That’s it. I got to run. Sorry I took it out on you, Roving, ‘twern’t your fault. There’s my train. Taking the little lady to a museum. I like watching that train set.”
“Me, too. Have a good time. Next?”
“Hello, Roving.”
“Oh, hello. I remember you. You’re the one that stayed up all night after the Cubs won. How can I help you?”
“Aren’t you the one that’s supposed to ask the questions?”
“Oh, right. How about that game last night?”
“I thought those Cub announcers were supposed to be for the home team and not throw a monkey-wrench into the works.”
“We all did. An unfortunate mistake, for sure. I think maybe he wasn’t a born Cub fan, as I was.”
“I don’t know whether to feel sorry for you or not.”
“It’s okay: it’s become a way of life. If you’re a Cub fan, a true Cub fan, why, you can take whatever life dishes at you, including an announcer who jinxes the game.”
“There’s my train. Bye.”
“Bye, nice-looking lady. Time for one more; and you are?”
“We’re the Nelsons from Davenport.”
“Why do Iowans come to my city?”
“My husband was an engineer and likes to watch the trains go around at the museum.”
“Look, Nancy, for the last time: I was a building engineer, not an engineer for a train, for gosh sakes.”
“But you like trains.”
“I like little model trains. I like to watch them go around in circles. No loud piercing noises; no rumbling of the ground; no dirt and soot and oil; no diesel fumes; no.”
“Okay, okay, I get it.”
“How long you two been married?”
“Too long.”
“Not long enough.”
“I’m sorry, but we’ve run out of time. Sure nice talking to you, though. That’s our show for tonight and we thank you for watching and so, on behalf of the crew, I’d like to wish you all a goodnight: Goodnight.
“You believe that? A marriage counselor I am not. If we ever deserved a burger, now’s the time: my treat.”