HOW  IT  ALL  BEGAN . . .

                  One boring summer afternoon somewhere in the vicinity of heaven atop a great mountain,

  bored with the game of telling what the clouds resembled which had been going on since the Persian Sun god was invented, one of

    the gods, sniffing the aromas of hot-dogs, mustard, roasted peanuts and beer wafting up to them, noticed beneath her feet a

    swath of Gaea's terrain was covered with a bunch of mere mortals running helter-skelter in uncoordinated movements with

    some going in an odd shaped circle while others were chasing a little white object that had been vaulted on its way by one

   giant of a man, named Conners, whose stature would give a New York team its nickname of "Giants",  a future Hall of Famer with

  a wind-beaten limb of a fig tree whose sole intent was to beat the little thing to death when not missing it. She shouted to all the

                                           others to see what she had discovered.

                "Look at them jumping up and down and all about!" Athena Brighteyes said, pointing vigorously.

                                     "It's not war for no blood is being shed by the gallons."

          "Why not?" Ares said, becoming fascinated by the clusters of mortals on the periphery doing brawls between the

   styrofoamcupholders and the waxpapermunchers; but the gods would add many more twists and churns to this thing to make

   fanatics of the thing, flabbergast at all the inexplicable things that could occur while the two sides were engaging each other in

                                                       various ways.

   "Oh Father Thunderbolt! Oh Thundercloud, why must he bring blood into everything?" the goddess of love questioned as her

   son began shooting arrows into some of those who were peering over the roof of the cave making them fall in love with all the

                                    sitting pretty women wearing large white brimmed hats.

   "It's something like rounder," Hermes said recalling how some of the lesser gods had tried to introduce that entertainment to

                                                 mortals coated in blue dye.

   "It looks so crazy though! I go for the ones off the field hurling obscenities at the moundmortal," Prometheus said referring to

                                              those milling about inside a cave.

   "Well I go for that one, that one, that one and that one dressed in blue playing footsie with the white line," Athena said pointing

  to the protector of the area a distance before the left and center pastures, the guardian of the right pasture, the mortal standing

      in a box a few feet away from the third sack doing weird movements engulfing nearly his whole body with his wild hand

                                                        movements.

    "But I go against that one out there!" she said and blew the ball out of the protector of the first sack's large misshapen hand.

   She hunched her shoulders in a feminine way as she giggled and clapped her hands softly. She thought she might enjoy this

                                                       thing called ...

Copyright 2001 by Jerry Vilhotti.  All rights reserved.