Hi Five

Robert asked how much I benched and said he was 
impressed with the bulk that is my shoulders and 
chest as I exited the donut shop and headed for my 
car, and he mentioned how he wanted to have my 
build but he’s 6’3”and wiry and won state in ’82 
just before he enlisted. He shadowboxed the way 
I could use my body to pummel another man with 
hooks to the gut and face if I wanted to because
my strength is compact like his boy Sato who was 
about my height and weight and whom he served 
with right after high school. I wasn’t familiar with 
many of the MMA fighters or NBA semi-star 
centers or Cuban boxers he began referring to, 
but I stood partway into the street while he stood 
on the sidewalk where he also slept, and I simply 
listened to Robert because it was apparent no one 
else ever did. I wanted to call my wife after half 
an hour to tell her not to worry, I got my donut 
but was helping another man relive moments 
where he cheered for the accomplishments of 
others and when others cheered for him. It’s not 
every day that you meet someone who knows 
that Waymon Tisdale averaged 15 points a game 
before retiring to play a mean bass full-time and 
even though he was the star of the ’88 World 
Series, Hershizer was on crack which Robert 
knew because his sister’s friend Felicia who 
graduated in ’91 and did hair in a not so nice 
part of L.A. sold to him. And even though I 
hadn’t ever had that in-depth a lesson in such 
a variety of sports, I just wanted to go home 
to eat my chocolate donut before work like I 
always did. But I knew I couldn’t be like Fran 
Tarkenton who Robert says was the best 
scrambling quarterback ever and could weave 
his way through a Buffalo blizzard. I had to be 
more like Terry Bradshaw, an immobile object 
who took vicious shots from linebackers in 
order to deliver a perfect pass because that’s what 
good teammates do, and because when I finally 
left, Robert shook my hand and said we were now 
friends.