Chapter 19, Blog 2
By Chuck Wells As Told To Ray Hochgesang
Ralphie’s face twisted into an ugly knot. Could he be serious? I’m sure this was the same mope who swore the Olympic Games were a sham existing only for rich kids and other pathetic losers. Didn’t Ralphie say he had more productive things to do like getting drunk?
So I had one question.
“What the hell made you change your mind?”
Ralphie pushed to the edge of the sofa and stood up. His brown eyes burned brick-oven red. His lower lip quivered at 90 mph. The last time I saw him like this, he was getting married.
“I wunt ta give it a try, Chuck,” he said. “Damn, I could kill ya for starting this, putting this thing in my head. I thought it was a bunch of crap. And I still think it’s crap.”
“High-grade crap, that is.”
“But now, I can’t git it outta my head.”
“Obsessed, huh? And … ”
“And if you can make it, I wunt ta give it a try.”
Book it. I was going to Beijing. If I didn’t qualify in the 800, I would go as the coach for America’s newest shot putter. Whenever Ralphie put his mind and heart into something, just get out of the way. Shot Put Mechanics 1, here I come. Better yet, I had an idea.
“Let’s go online and see which meet we should start with,” I said. “I think there’s one in Atlanta in early July.”
“But that’s less than a month away,” said Ralphie. “I don’t know if I can be ready.”
“Ralphie,” I said. “The real question is will they be ready for you?”
Copyright © 2012 by Chuck H. Wells/Ray Hochgesang