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Das Running....
of Der Gumpen. BEHOLD!
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I made sure to get there early and yet the line at the gates were untolerable. Fortunately, I had an early breakfast of fried eggs, greasy hash browns, and strong black coffee at IHop, so before long the aromatic scent emanating from moi, cause the mob to create plenty of space around me.
The gates opened! I walked hurriedly as they moved us down the side of the field to the corner of the endzone. I glanced up at the empty seats and imagined I was Charlie Peprah playing against UGA in 2002. My XL #3 jersey wafted in the artificial wind created by my incredible pace. My cargo shorts occasionally rubbed my knees, creating a bit of friction as if in protest of my journey, but I would not be stopped by such an inconvenience. In my left arm, I cradled a crimson and white football tightly against my chest in anticipation for my fateful run.
I rounded the fence; to this point, my way was blocked by someone in a motorized wheelchair, filled to the brim with a multitude of Alabama paraphernalia. I pushed the break on his left tire, his momentum had been such that this caused him to turn harshly to the right. His weight betrayed him and he tumbled into a pitiful mess. He looked me in the eye and asked for help and I smirked dishonestly at the pitiful figure and screamed, "rammer jammer m***** f******."
He wept on the ground and I continued my quest, as others stopped to help the man sprawled on the concrete, my heart quickened as the hoard that was previously before me now knelt to gather up all the goods and put the miserable creature back in his throne - their loss, I thought.
My toe shoes struck the hot turf and I felt a shock of excitement pulse through me in that instance. I lowered my head, still some 20 people ahead of me. I clutched the ball even harder and began to sprint with such quickness, that the screaming I'd left behind became inaudible over the air that rushed past my ears. I was going to score and everyone of those empty seats around me was going to watch in amazement. About 3 yards from the first table of Alabama players, a boy was trying to pass me on my right, but my foot swept out and caught his heel. He had a smaller football, but it didn't help him, as he fumbled it carelessly down the field away from the players. I wondered if he felt like Earl Alexander vs LSU in 2008.
The prize was mine to be had. Such beasts now sat before me in jerseys much like mine. I felt a swell of pride in knowing my purchase had been so close to the authentic uniforms. Everyone gave me a highfive for being the first to arrive, I was screaming Roll Tide to the disgusting mass that had been left in my wake. I was able to collect autographs from everyone at the event and even exchanged Kik information with several players. I hugged Kenyan Drake and rubbed his head, as if to say "hang in there buddy" and he looked at me wildly, but with a kindness that I'd never experienced.
It was the best day of my life.
