And now the exciting conclusion…
We sat there throughout the game. Sure, I was enjoying the hockey, but I had destiny on my mind. With a minute left in the game, I gave my sister the top-secret ultra-hush-hush super-stealthy signal that it was time for my plan to be sat in motion.
“Hey,” I said. “We need to go down to the lower level now so that we can beat the crowd down there and get to the postgame show so that I can be on TV and stuff.” On second thought, it wasn’t near as sneaky as I thought it was.
We headed out as quickly as can be. Taking a quick left, we bypassed the slowest escalator known to man for a staircase on the outside wall of the arena. We were making great time and it would be no time until I had reached that utopia.
Just steps from the bottom of the staircase though, we found a surprise. As quick as we had been, it hadn’t been enough. The flood of disappointed and dejected hockey fans was pouring out of the arena to their cars where they could weep in private. If I were to take one more step, I would be swept into the crowd, pushed outside to a dark camera-less existence.
I knew, though, that I couldn’t let it end like this. There was no way. I turned to my sister and gave her the look. She knew exactly what that meant.
We were going full speed ahead.
I weaved in and out of the crowd, narrowly avoiding each person as I passed. Of course, this meant that my sister did not narrowly avoid these people, instead crashing into them. What am I supposed to do, stop and wait? I was on a mission.
Eventually we busted through the crowd and were home free. We rounded the corner and there sat a postgame show. And a crowd. A big crowd right where I needed to be.
There are a lot of advantages to being a shorter man like myself. I am able to walk under tree branches that many people would slam their face into. My pants and clothing are all much shorter saving those poor kids in sweatshops a lot of time while sewing. I can comfortably fit in the backseat of a coupe. While these are huge plusses, being seen over a crowd on regional television is not one of them.
I stood at the back of the crowd and, for what seemed like the 30th time that day thought my mission was over. I had been defeated and could go home dejected. Just like the times before, though, I did not give up.
I began to jump.
My first jump was high, but not high enough. My second was even higher.
Mustering every bit of energy I had left from my rollercoaster of a day, I flung myself into the air. My arm extended as if I were trying to touch the ceiling. Then, through a gap in the crowd, I saw the monitor. There in full view, above everything else, was my hand.
My hand was now famous.
The takeaway from this story is simple: never give up. You can do anything with a bit of effort and a strange amount of focus on one tiny weird thing.
Also, it helps to know where the pregame show is to begin with. It will save A LOT of time.
- Operation Boob Tube, Part 2: Electric Boogaloo (badlandsbadley.wordpress.com)
- Operation Boob Tube, Part 1 (badlandsbadley.wordpress.com)