This is a short story that was written a while back and I’m posting it to the Blog/Website today. The latest novel re-write is taking up a tremendous amount of time at the present moment, (that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it) so hence, the earlier piece. This one’s a bit long, but rather than split it up and post it in parts over a one month period-here it is all at once.

 

The month of January is always one of my favorite times of the year to follow sports. The Australian Open Tennis tournament happens at this time, football play-offs are in full swing, and World Cup Ski Races are going great guns. This year in addition, we’re on the verge of the Winter Olympics happening in two weeks. My anticipation is palpable since we don’t have much snow to go outside and play in right now.                                                                 Word Count: 3881

 

 

 

 

 

A Different Type

  Of Obsessive

 

Is it a surprise discovering that certain individuals are extremely diehard fanatics about rooting for their team? In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find a professional sporting organization that doesn’t have a few extreme obsessive types. Just how excessively enthusiastic is this supporter we’re talking about? Is it possible that they make a ravenous glazed donut consumer look like a sensitive vegan health food guru?

Just to make things a bit more interesting, what if I was to tell you this fan roots for the team every opportunity he gets, and over the past ten years has discovered that the more obsessive he acts, the healthier he seems to feel.

Doing an extreme action related to supporting the team even calms him down. Life feels that much more serene and balanced after he’s spent game day painted head-to-toe in green and yellow. Running through the stands, and howling like a werewolf that’s just latched onto its latest victim.

This obsession even ends up becoming the impetus that turns his passion into a career. How is this possible in a world where everyone worships at the alter of financial survival? Every day existence has created all sorts of worker bees permanently entrenched in their drone position for life?

Since we’re investigating this like a psychiatric case study, this requires us to look at it analytically. Or at least attempt to sound highly educated while doing so.

Enrique and Ethyl Munoz’ only offspring had a relatively uneventful childhood. Floundered all over the field like most pre-school kids when attempting to play little league baseball or soccer. Back in those days nobody really took much notice of Eduardo’s lack of athletic ability. Primarily because the other kids were also at the same level of proficiency (or lack thereof).

Then Eduardo got into junior high where his inability to maintain concentration first became evident. His P.E. teacher, along with various other classmates noted this during a highly competitive dodge ball match. Eduardo caught the ball that had been rocketed at him, and rather than throw it back at his mortal enemy like a ravenous combatant, held onto it.

Looked at the sphere like it was a precious religious artifact, tossed it up into the air, and proceeded to walk off the court. When one of his win-or-die-trying teammates started yelling at him, Eduardo stared at the guy, and then began cheering instead. In the eyes of their instructor (a former marine corps drill-sergeant), something was obviously wrong. Since other examples of Eduardo’s quirky behavior didn’t really exhibit themselves over the next two years nobody cared, and the boy’s physical non-proficiency wasn’t noticed.

He actually played a little bit of high school basketball after that. No one observed his quirkiness in bewilderment then either. Exclusively because of the fact that the Grover Cleveland Sky Hawks gave new meaning to the word “futility”, only winning four games in the next three years. Eduardo also established semi-permanent residence at the end of the team’s bench, so his eccentric behavior, along with his athletic talents (once again I say “lack thereof”) languished in obscurity.

College wasn’t that much of a revelation. His freshman year at Bowling Green he met and became tight buddies with Stephen Viceroy. Also an extremely strange individual in his own right, Stevie’s father often referring to him as “Little Stevie Wonder”. Telling people that he referenced his son in this manner because a lot of folks (including himself) often wondered about Stephen.

Eduardo and Stevie both majored in Cultural Aspects of Modern Multi-Media. Specifically, the Ubiquitous Nature of the Internet’s all-pervasive influence on society. Sort of like studying why people like eating ice cream. This course of academic advancement virtually guaranteeing that they’d end up asking future clients if they wanted fries with their order.

Instead, the two of them decided to move to Chicago and share an apartment. Concentrating a large portion of their time on coming up with new and innovative ways to pay the rent. Guilt forced them to avoid regular visits to the local soup kitchen.

________________

We find the roommates holed up on a Friday night, dateless due to lack of funds, and contemplating their latest scheme for avoiding the wrath of their landlord.

“You think it’ll work?” asked Stevie. “What if he catches us in the act?”

Eduardo’s Cheshire cat expression said it all. “He won’t if we do the make-up right. In fact, I’ll bet money that “Powder-Doughnut Boy” won’t even notice us exiting the building. These wigs will work perfectly. He’ll think we’re just more skanks leaving another party in apt. 3B.”

“How does he keep throwing all those elaborate shindigs?”

“Who? Lindsey in 3B?”

“No not him, Lenny-The-Landlord. Money is obviously a problem with the guy since he’s breathing down our necks at the end of every month for the rent.”

“True. Those special powdered doughnuts he gets from Bolivia don’t come cheap. He needs a steady supply of the stuff.”

“Now what about Lindsey in 3B?” asked Stevie. “Where does all his cash come from?”

“Trust fund I guess. One time he told me his grandfather created the website; www.winetastersofamerica.com. Apparently, a lot of folks with more money than the two of us make in a year are into that sort of thing.”

“You foresee any problems sneaking out of the apartment?”

“Only when “Doughnut Boy” starts to wonder if we really did come from one of the 3B parties. He’s a regular at those affairs so he might get suspicious.”

“True.”

“Now for the important stuff,” said Eduardo. “You get the tickets to the White Sox’s game this Saturday?”

“Yup. The Sox’s club coordinator totally fell for it when I showed him a picture of my cousin’s 10-year old.”

“Cool.”

“Then I told him the youngster is a big White Sox’s supporter and this is his only chance to see one of their games this season. I pretended to shed a few tears when I told him about the cancer, and the guy gave me the comp. tickets without me even asking for them. Basically, I milked the situation for all it was worth. Should get the call from Hollywood this afternoon. This is so cool.”

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Got any ideas about how we should put our loyalty on display?”

“Of course, why do you think I asked you to get us white hair pieces? We cover ourselves in black paint. Put the wigs on, and then add a few other silver make-up highlights. We wear those white shorts I bought at the thrift store last week.”

“You’ve got this one all planned out, don’t you?

Eduardo smiled. “As usual my priorities are squarely in the correct place. Yours must be too.”

“I think they are.”

“Good. We get on the ‘L’ coming from O‘Hara at the Jefferson Park Station going downtown at precisely 10:02 am.”

“Is it really necessary to get on at Jefferson Park Station. Wouldn’t it be easier to catch the ‘L’ at the Montrose Station?

“Maybe, but we need to do this in the exact manner as the last trip to the ballpark.”

“A White Sox’s victory.”

“If we do things exactly, there’s a higher probability of the Sox’s winning.”

“Why?”

“Because my intuition tells me so. Don’t ask questions.”

“Ok,” said Stevie, mightily hiding his bewilderment.

“From there we transfer to the red line going south and get off at 35^th Station. Arrive at U.S. Cellular Field just in time to catch batting practice.”

“Should we buy any concessions before the first pitch?”

“No hotdogs till the game has started. Then when we buy them its right before the bottom of the first inning.”

“Ok.”

“When we eat the hot dogs, you must close your eyes every time you take a bite. That way you’re ensuring that whomever is batting for the Sox’s at that particular moment has an increased probability that they make contact with the ball.”

“Makes sense,” said Stevie.

“Glad you’re thinking the way I do.”

“Minds on a higher intellectual plane like ours think alike.”

“Obviously,” said Eduardo as he pumped out his chest.     “During the game, I will refuse to watch any of the action whenever the opposition is changing pitchers.”

“How come?”

“That way whomever those lowlife Royals put on the mount has a greater chance of getting shelled.”

“What will you do in those situations?”

“Probably walk down to the lower concourse and run through our section of the stadium trying to drum up support. Dirty job, but I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

“Very noble of you.”

“Thank you. Makes me feel better when I’m doing it too.”

________________

The game turned into a nail biting extra inning pitcher’s duel that stretched into Saturday evening. Whether or not all that intricate maneuvering Stevie and Eduardo undertook to influence the outcome had any affect is the subject of intense scrutiny in very few circles.

We do know this. Had they not attempted these actions and the White Sox’s lost, once again Eduardo would’ve voiced his regular threat. Moving one step closer to selling all his earthly possessions and relocating to a remote South Pacific island.

Eduardo & Stevie followed the remainder of the White Sox’s home stand on TV, or play-by-play off the radio in the case of four of the games. This fact totally perplexed Senor Munoz. He just couldn’t figure out why the entertainment media in the greater Chicago area didn’t broadcast all of the Sox’s games on television. Obviously, their priorities weren’t in the right place like him and Stevie.

Sadly, the team was mired in third place in their division, 7½ games out of first and sinking fast. The season was already 2/3rds over and the chances of the White Sox’s even making it into the playoffs were slim and none. Eduardo checked the standings one afternoon and concluded that he and Stevie having next month’s rent on time would probably happen first.

Fortunately, greed plays a vital role for most professional sport teams in America. Over-lapping seasons from one activity to the next has a way of easing the pain of your favorite team just mailing it in after being eliminated. Life just doesn’t feel so bad in moments like these.

Eduardo had become a die-hard Green Bay Packers fan. He possessed undying loyalty to the Pack as the result of watching them with his grandfather. It took him a while to figure out the nuances of the game, but once he’d achieved that level of knowledge on the same day as his fourth birthday, he was hooked for life.

Eduardo discovered a local bar that broadcast the Pack’s games soon after first moving to Chicago. Turned into a regular patron of the establishment and the owner even invited him to Thanksgiving dinner because he was such a loyal customer. Didn’t spend much money while taking in the game, but Mitch Davidovich correctly assumed this was because Eduardo didn’t have any disposable income to invest in Hops based beverages.

Eduardo had a regular routine every Sunday. Set the alarm clock for 8:16 am, as this was the precise moment Aaron Rodgers (star Packer quarterback) first entered the game when he became the regular starter. Don’t answer the phone for the first hour he was awake, in order to create the allusion with his mother that he was attending Sunday mass. Eat his Wheaties from the same Vince Lombardi commemorative bowl. Strategically arrange every item in the refrigerator so that its labels face backwards. This would guarantee that every member of the Packers would be totally focused during the game. Last, but certainly not least, refuse to acknowledge Stevie’s continued existence as a human being for the entire day since he was a Monsters of the Midway (Chicago Bears) fan.

The previous year this had almost worked as the Pack finished the regular season with a 15-1 record. Then they lost to the New York Giants in the very first round of the play-offs. Eduardo blamed himself for his team’s sudden defeat. Partially because he forgot to arrange his desk before going to Mitch’s Watering Hole. Grievously neglecting to place every item in the exact same position as they were the prior three weeks leading up to Super Bowl XLV. A victory for The Pack.

_______________

Mitch was aware of Eduardo’s all-consuming obsession with The Packers. On one level it worried him slightly, but for the most part he had better things to get stressed about. His two girls had just entered into the teen years (a daily concern in and of itself), and a large number of Mitch’s patrons had sunken into a life of quiet desperation. Owing largely to the fact that Eduardo was young, Mitch reasoned that whatever demons he had running through his head he’d hopefully get over. Theoretically anyway. Other than his extreme sports obsession, the kid seemed fairly stable on a mental level. Somehow, he’d find a way to lead a normal existence.

It just so happened that the owner of the watering hole also had a good buddy who worked for The Pack. Dr. Riley Cooper had been a Coordinator of Green Bay Packer Administrative Sales and Marketing for over thirty-five years. Now he was even contemplating a strange phenomenon called, “spending more time with your family.” Riley found himself standing on the precipice of admittance in “The Golden Years” club.

Dr. Cooper mentioned this to his buddy Mitch and also told him that The Pack’s intelligentsia wanted to hire from within. This meant whoever was Dr. Cooper’s second-in-command could find themselves stepping up to the next level of the corporate pyramid. The result meant the mailroom flunky would probably get a promotion and an opening would suddenly appear on the bottom rung of the ladder. Mitch immediately started thinking and called Eduardo soon after. Asking him to take an afternoon out of his busy schedule as a purveyor of fast food items to discuss a few things.

 

The bar of Mitch’s Watering Hole on a Tuesday at 1:00 p.m. Since he didn’t open till 4:00, this gave them time to discuss Eduardo’s future before the regular Liver Pickler’s showed up.

“So, what do you think?” asked Mitch, “Riley told me they need an answer yes or no within a week. That shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

“Uhhh yeah, no trouble at all.” Eduardo figured he shouldn’t say anything about being slightly indecisive. That time I missed the cruise ship to the Bahamas because it took me too long to decide on what pants to wear came to mind.

“You’re a huge Packers fan. Fitting in will be like sliding into an easy chair.”

“Think there’ll be a question about me never having worked in a mail room?”

“Nope.”

“I don’t have a bachelor’s degree in business marketing either?”

“They’ll snap you up in a second when you apply for the job.”

 

Not quite. Eduardo did go out on a limb with his indecisiveness, but applied for the job soon after. Unfortunately, the subsequent interview didn’t result in Eduardo gliding into the job like Mitch thought it would.

 

A conference room at the Packers’ headquarters in Green Bay:

“We’re looking for a person that has a bit of experience working in a companies’ mail room,” said Wilbur Humboldt, Director of Human Resources for the Pack. “They should also be a bit passionate about rooting for the Packers. Just how fervent a supporter of the team are you?”

Eduardo decided to lie. “I guess I’m a slight Packers fan.”

“And yet you live in Chicago? Why’s that?”

“Well, before this job opening came along I thought there were more career opportunities for me in Chicago.”

Wilbur had another hour to kill before his next appointment. “Your resume says you work at a restaurant. What do you do there?”

“I’m a kitchen associate.”

“Pearl Diver huh?”

Eduardo sank a little bit lower into his chair. “Yes.”

“Give me a good example of your passionate support for the team?”

“Last week I designed this great costume to take in the game at Mitch’s bar. I regularly watch Packer games there.”

“Really? What’d you do?”

“Dressed up as a Viking that’s been decapitated.”

“Not too many Minnesota fans at this bar you go to? Got a picture with you?”

“I’ve got my smart phone.” Eduardo reached into his carryall, grabbed it, and punched in the picture. Good thing he hadn’t deleted the evidence as the costume was indeed a prime example of passionate support for one’s team. A make-up artist for Slasher flicks in Hollywood would’ve been proud.

_______________

Unfortunately, this didn’t dissuade Mr. Humboldt and the hiring management in Green Bay.  The job was offered to a Canadian living in that neck of Wisconsin instead. The kid snapped it up without an ounce of hesitation when the job invitation was extended his way.

The very next night before nodding off into La-la Land, Eduardo wondered to himself whether there are indeed sports fans as passionate about their favorite team as he was. Apparently there are, and it turns out that Eduardo was only a mild example of the phenomenon.

Andrew Ziff was more than excited when Pack management offered him the mailroom job. He had this really good feeling right after he interviewed for the job, and walked out of the building feeling extremely confident. So expectant that he actually had his U.S. work visa renewed in anticipation of being offered the position.

A bit over-confident as it turns out. Of course what he did right after the job offer didn’t help his cause. First, Andrew decided to travel home to Thunder Bay right after The Pack offer. From there, he went celebrating with his buddies right after cruising into town. Just so happened that it was Hockey Night in Canada when they hit their favorite watering hole. A sports bar that would play a crucial role in the proceedings that would unfold three hours after their Bacchanalian odyssey.

A day later, Eduardo received an urgent call from Packer management. Needing him to come in for an un-planned, emergency, interview the very next day. Serendipity was on his side. It just so happened that he had the day off from his vitally important job as a kitchen associate at Ultimate Shakes & Burgers.

Packer management conference room:

“Glad you could make it in on such short notice,” said Wilbur. “We’re under a lot of pressure to fill the position you applied for, but lost out on.”

Eduardo facial expression showed surprise. “You mean you haven’t already hired someone for the job yet?”

“As a matter of fact we already did, but things didn’t work out the way we wanted them too. You still interested in our mail room opening if we offer it to you?”

Career opportunities at Ultimate Shakes seem slightly limited. “Could I start the day after I’ve moved into a place up here in Green Bay?”

“I think we can accommodate that.”

“Cool.”

“And you say you’re a big fan of The Pack?”

“Yup.”

“How big?” asked a concerned Mr. Humboldt. “This could cause problems if the person we hire ends up rooting for one of our rivals. Give me an example.”

“I cancelled my high school prom date when I discovered the girl I was going to attend the dance with happened to be a Detroit Lions fan.”

“She didn’t get upset?”

“Big time. When I showed her the green suit with yellow accents I was planning on wearing that’s when she first went ballistic on me. Then I discovered she had misguided loyalties and we parted ways right after that.”

“The sacrifices we make for our team.”

“Indeed.”

 

Moving out of the efficiency apartment Eduardo shared with Stephen was bittersweet. Even though the guy was obviously confused with his loyalty to The Bears, Eduardo decided Stevie was a pretty good person. Maybe if Eduardo got him to come and visit, hopefully he’d shift his allegiances. Stranger things can happen. After all The Cubs still have people rooting for them.

“So how much are they paying you?” asked Stevie, thinking ahead to the day when he was planning to ask his buddy for a much-needed loan.

“I’m not sure, but it’ll probably be a lot better than I can squeeze out of management at Shakes & Burgers.”

“You’ll be surrounded by fellow Packers fanatics.  Definitely a plus.”

“Should be fun. I’m looking forward to that.”

“So, what happened to the guy they’d already hired. That must’ve been quite a shock having to find another person right after they thought the position had already been filled.”

“Oh him? A Canuck from what their Human Resource Manager told me. Right after they’d chosen him, he went home to Thunder Bay to celebrate.”

“Then what?” asked Stevie.

“Guy got arrested for ransacking a local bar and thrown into jail. Apparently his favorite team, the Winnipeg Jets, grasped defeat out of the gaping jaws of victory. Had a 4-1 lead going into the last two minutes of their game with the Boston Bruins and lost in overtime.”

“No kidding. Boy those Canadian hockey fans are a few French Fries short of a Happy Meal.”

“You got that one right,” said Eduardo. “Thank god we aren’t as extreme down here in the states.”

“So now what’re your plans?”

Eduardo hesitated slightly before saying it. “Already told them I really want the job.”

“I guess that means you aren’t going to be commuting back and forth during the work week, does it?”

“No. Wasn’t planning on taking seven hours out of every day to do that.”

Stevie decided he’d make a valiant attempt to convince his buddy not to take the job. “You know, it gets pretty cold up in Green Bay. The city is right on the shores of Lake Michigan.”

“Actually I can’t recall ever falling asleep during any of my Jr. High geography classes. I think Chicago is right next to that very same lake as well.”

“You sure you even want to leave the city? Might be harder to keep tabs on White Soxs’ games?”

“There’s this amazing tool I’m pretty sure I can get access to. It’s called the Internet, allows one to tap into all sorts of neat information. Good for folks like us who follow our favorite sports team on a regular basis from an alternate location.”

Stevie realized his efforts were fairly lame, so he decided to just give up rather than keep attacking windmills.  “Wow, think you’ll get to meet some of the star athletes for The Pack?”

“Maybe, I’m sure most of them will have their dealings with management from time to time. That’s because this whole professional sports thing happens to be a business.”

“Unfortunate, but true.”

Since Stevie had gotten philosophical, Eduardo decided to stay on the same track. “I’m actually glad that I’ve become so obsessed with sports. It seems to act like some sort of strange drug to keep me sane. Can you imagine what I’d be like if I didn’t have this passion for following my favorite teams?”

“Fairly sane, and therefore pretty scary.”

END