Big athlete becomes a runt's bitch
This is a true story, as told to me by an acquaintance. Names and locatioBaseball Star and the Little Guy ns have been changed.
I'm on a national league baseball team--we'll let the name go unmentioned, and for a name for me, let's just call me "Noname"--hey, "Nome" for short. Anyway, off the diamond, I'm in the most fucked-up situation I can imagine. Couldn't tell it, though, by my play during games. I hit homers. We win. I
John Rivers had worshipped Champ Griffin for years, ever since John had begun devoting every waking moment to soccer—on the field, in his discussions with his friends, and in the décor he picked for his bedroom walls. Champ Griffin, the star player for the Big Chiefs professional soccer team, figured prominently in every single poster John had on his bedroom wall. Champ Griffin's cocky smile and his magnificently developed body had been the last thing John had seen when he turned out his light a
Tuesday practice ended like every other Tuesday practice. Well, kind of. The practice and its ending were of little consequence except that the origin of this whole Noah thing got its start in the usual, linear thoughtlessness of surviving another week at Willard Brown Preparatory Academy.
Coach had just finished yelling at the offense for sucking: Ted had thrown the football too far to the right on a roll out and the receiver had to come back in to catch t
They say everything comes in threes. You know the one superstition where if bad luck befalls someone, then it is more likely that a second and third string of unluckiness is sure to follow?
For Julian Berkowitz, it was his week for unlucky threes. First, he got fired from his job as a cosmetics sales rep at Lacey's department store after arguing with a customer about the quantity of free samples he was allowed to give. Second, he got evicted from his apartment after his thieving r
"Just settle down and stop pushing at me, Danny. I'm in now."
He wasn't in as far as he was going to get, I was soon to learn. The pain was excruciating, not least because it was so strange compared to anything I'd experienced before. But I'd been assured that it would lessen and that, eventually, I usually wouldn't notice it much at all—not compared with the pleasure it would be giving me. And there was some of that already. The expectation of it; the "it's finally happening" of
I turned the corner and saw the motel. There it was, as he'd said it would be, and my life was about to change irrevocably. I could never go back after I entered room sixteen. I paused and stood on the curb, swallowing hard, my emotions a crazed mixture of fear, anger, strange excitement, and I was fighting tears. Finally I steeled myself to move forward. I'd expected it to be seedy, to have drug addicts and prostitutes hanging around it. Instead it was nice, painted a bright pink with white tri
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