The excerpt:
It never occurred to Arly Hockrood that Jack
worshipped him for his powerful mind but hated him for his inconsiderate
ways. Although he didn’t do it every
week, Hockrood often asked Jack what his questions were—the ones Jack had been
afraid to ask at the previous Monday’s Quarterback Lunch. Like an admiring idiot, Jack usually revealed
his questions.
“Jesus,
Alexander! That’s not an important question!”
Hockrood always snapped back.
“You gotta learn to ask significant questions, boy, real good ones,
timeless ones! You gotta be a student of
the game if you’re gonna be a student of the game!”
Jack had
quite a bit of trouble trying to figure out what Arly Hockrood meant by that
last profundity. He also had trouble
with “timeless, significant” questions about football. He studied video, watched all the coach’s shows,
read every word he could about the Tuskers, but still his questions about
football didn’t seem important enough, at least to satisfy Hockrood. So Jack usually came home depressed, as well
as excited, hostile and aggressive, after the rich AEPI founder had made the
rounds of the sales offices. Sometimes
on the way home Jack would wonder why football aroused all these simultaneous
emotions in him. Then he would try to
shake off his feelings so he could be a little bit nice to Suzi, even though
she wouldn’t be very responsive until Saturday, when Jack would have other
things on his mind.
On Thursday
evenings, Suzi was sympathetic but not very patient.
“Well,
Jack, what were your questions?”
He’d tell
her. More often than not, Suzi would say
something that made Jack realize how stupid his questions were. Suzi had about as much love for Big Red
football as Arly Hockrood did, but she didn’t study the games for the purpose
of making trouble. She just loved to see
Archie prance around on the field. Suzi
was just naive and innocent, thought Jack, at least about football. What he didn’t realize was that in watching
the televised games so she could see Archie, she’d picked up a certain amount
of insight into the way football was played.
Of course her brilliant mind kept a jump ahead of the sport by
wrestling, in its boredom, with the second most timeless and significant
question of all: How should football be
played?
And, from
her philosophy classes back at the University of Nebraska, taken back when the
football team was the miserable losing Cornhuskers, Suzi remembered that you
could easily convert a somewhat significant question into a truly important one
simply by replacing the word “how” with the word “why.” For example, one could ask not “how . . . “
but “why should football be played?”
This
question was the precise one that the evil wealthy genius Arly Hockrood had
asked himself every day since he’d been a youth in college.
No comments:
Post a Comment