Run Forrest! RUN!

I have two stories for you all tonight.

The first story I have to tell about needing to run fast is the story about when I got (sort of) mugged. It was about 5 in the morning and I was coming home from Madrid on the night bus. (N903 if you must know.) Now the night bus stops about 5 minutes from my house, and I have to walk from there. I have two routes to go home: The long way, which follows the more populated roads but takes 5 minutes longer; and the quick way, which is shorter but no one else is ever there. Anyway, I got off the bus and decided to take the quick way because I was tired. Three other guys got off the bus too, and-as soon as the bus left-they start pushing me around a tad and asking me if I had anything of value. However, I like my things. So pushed one outta the way, took off, and did not look back. Interesting experience. The thing that is most interesting is that they got off the bus BEFORE me, which means that they live around here... I have decided to take the long way from now on...

Now story number two about needing to run fast has a much happier ending. It is, of course, the story of my first Spanish football game. We played Los Osos (The Bears) and going into the game they were the all around, overwhelming favorites. The optimistic predictions had us losing by just a few points. They had more people, more size, and more speed. So it gives me great pleasure to announce that we won 13-6. What you cannot see from that score is that not only did we win, we (in the words of their own web site) dominated them. We led the whole game, and the team as a whole had (at least) 10-15 sacks. It was a great game and when it was all over and we had won, I led the whole team in the WHS Fight Song. (With some minor adjustments because-although our mascot is the Black Demons-our colors are red and black and we do not live in Washington.)

As for my individual performance, I did better than expected. We ran the ball a lot which is kind of what saved me. We actually only ended up running 3 pass plays, although far more than that were called. Every time one was called, there would be a penalty or something and the play would get changed. But I was 1 for 3 (one of which was NOT my fault because it hit the guy in the chest), but that one was run for 30 yds and turned into a TD. My only really big mistake was when I open up to the wrong direction on a reverse, but considering that I started learning this stuff five days ago I feel like I should be pardoned.

Well those are my stories of running, and now that I have no more and my legs hurt quite badly, I am going to hobble off into the sunset. G´night.