Robofootball: Doublespin

“Oh my God! Like oh my God! Can you believe it? The homecoming king is like you know, our big football star, like you know, it’s Jess! Jess Robinson!” Amanda Simpson was barely coherent as she moved the low tech microphone too close as if she were speaking too loud in an underwater speaker, then too quietly as she pulled it too far away. She had a booming cheerleader voice, but with all of the background chattering, even the most baritone-voiced teachers would not have been able to get through any where beyond the first row or two of tables. The homecoming dance was being held Saturday night, the day after the homecoming game.

“Oh God, Like oh my God,” Carly mimicked condescendingly. “I swear that Amanda has an IQ the square root of her shoe size.”

Jess laughed and winced simultaneously, 6 games into the season his team was 5-1, but he had the bruises and soreness to prove it, not to mention frequent headaches. He wondered how college players made it through 12 regular season games let alone 16 for the pros. “Yeah, she’s a bimbo all right.”

Carly eyed him carefully. Amanda Simpson may have been the stereotypical dumb blonde, but she was 5’8” with a near Barbie doll figure and she could twist like a gummy pretzel. She was slutty too and had the adorable nickname of “The Pin Cushion” which Carly had learned from Jess. It seemed like half the football team had stuck her. It also seemed for years that she had propositioned Jess in virtually every way possible. “Oh God, oh my God, she’s going to start up again!” Carly couldn’t help herself in her most sarcastic tone.

“Oh my God! LIKE OH MY GOD! I can’t believe it! Like I just can’t believe it! It’s the homecoming queen!” Amanda was hyperventilating and clutching her chest, at least Carly thought she had her beat there. Although Amanda held the microphone at a more proper distance after one of the teacher chaperones lectured her, she was now talking too fast to be coherent. She held a slip of paper in her hand and was waving it like a fan, “It’s me! Can you believe it!”

“Oh god,” said Jess. “I guess I had better get up on stage.”

“Yeah, well keep your hands to yourself Mr. Robinson,” Carly said with some formality.

“Sure, sure, but what about her?”

“I guess you’ll have to suffer the consequences.” Carly implied with the double entendre.

“I’ll have to do the one dance,” Jess reminded.

“Okay fine, just go.” Carly winced as Amanda gave Jess a big hug and kiss on the lips crushing her breasts into Jess while shaking her tail on the gym stage, all for the entire student body to see. Multiple cameras flashed as the choicest of pictures of Jess and Amanda would end up on a full page in the yearbook. Carly would only lament the event later wishing that she had a picture of her and Jess like that, there would be no prom night for them in the spring.

“Oh well,” Carly thought, “Amanda probably rigged the election somehow.” She trusted Jess and could suffer through one dance without him. She would spend the rest of the evening with one eye on Amanda, fending her off successfully when she so much as entered the same zip code as Jess. Things would be better tomorrow when they could take a nice private drive out to the lake. There, she could have Jess to herself.

“What’s the difference between a 3-week old puppy and a sportswriter? In 6 weeks, the puppy stops whining.”

Mike Ditka