DUNSTON THE BASEBALL DRIVER
29. DUNSTON THE BASEBALL DRIVER:
‘I drive the team around’ was all he’d said (I overheard him say) and he certainly looked retarded to me but in this squalid stupid driver’s get-up if he wished to drive the baseball bus I assumed I’d let him - for I had no care for him nor for what he does and the fine baseball fellows I saw were having breakfast at a nearby door - and they were all burly and gelled and nattily dressed as they’d wish I supposed - but there was nothing except the lettering upon the door of the bus which really told me anything about them - may as well have been to me the ‘Natty Bumpos’ training team’ for all I cared and baseball was never a suede set with me and these minor league teams seem to go on forever with one small town after another placing a claim on someone and fans and farmers both packed in the stands neither one knowing a damned thing about the game itself just cheering some event they’ve brought themselves to and I said “how long they in town for?’ and he said “they’re not – I’m just driving them through to the Binghamton Braves there’s a game tonight and they have to be there by about 1pm the latest so my work’s cut out but all they want to do is eat and stop and stop and eat and hit every flea-back morsel of a bathroom and lunch counter along the way and Goddamn if they don’t all have pens – as if someone’s gonna’ recognize them somewhere and want them to sign - they’re so full shit it runs out their ears but a great bunch of guys too stupid but great” and I wondered how often this guy had rehearsed all this spiel and what had – by the way – given him the right to exclude his selfhood from their fine ‘dumb’ company – as if he was the driving and the resident genius on board so I laughed and said “you know 6 years of that and a few beanballs to the head and what the hell else can you expect ? Einstein again?’” and he laughed and said “that’s funny but the one on the left – shit his name IS really Einstein but they call him Heinie it started out from shortening Einstein to Steinie but Heinie stuck instead” and I said “I'm afraid to say this but – ‘beats my ass’ – you get it?” and he did but right then he started the bus and yelled out “Come on you bunch of swampweeds – get your nasty twisted asses in here we gotta’ go!” but no one really seemed to care.
‘I drive the team around’ was all he’d said (I overheard him say) and he certainly looked retarded to me but in this squalid stupid driver’s get-up if he wished to drive the baseball bus I assumed I’d let him - for I had no care for him nor for what he does and the fine baseball fellows I saw were having breakfast at a nearby door - and they were all burly and gelled and nattily dressed as they’d wish I supposed - but there was nothing except the lettering upon the door of the bus which really told me anything about them - may as well have been to me the ‘Natty Bumpos’ training team’ for all I cared and baseball was never a suede set with me and these minor league teams seem to go on forever with one small town after another placing a claim on someone and fans and farmers both packed in the stands neither one knowing a damned thing about the game itself just cheering some event they’ve brought themselves to and I said “how long they in town for?’ and he said “they’re not – I’m just driving them through to the Binghamton Braves there’s a game tonight and they have to be there by about 1pm the latest so my work’s cut out but all they want to do is eat and stop and stop and eat and hit every flea-back morsel of a bathroom and lunch counter along the way and Goddamn if they don’t all have pens – as if someone’s gonna’ recognize them somewhere and want them to sign - they’re so full shit it runs out their ears but a great bunch of guys too stupid but great” and I wondered how often this guy had rehearsed all this spiel and what had – by the way – given him the right to exclude his selfhood from their fine ‘dumb’ company – as if he was the driving and the resident genius on board so I laughed and said “you know 6 years of that and a few beanballs to the head and what the hell else can you expect ? Einstein again?’” and he laughed and said “that’s funny but the one on the left – shit his name IS really Einstein but they call him Heinie it started out from shortening Einstein to Steinie but Heinie stuck instead” and I said “I'm afraid to say this but – ‘beats my ass’ – you get it?” and he did but right then he started the bus and yelled out “Come on you bunch of swampweeds – get your nasty twisted asses in here we gotta’ go!” but no one really seemed to care.
posted by gary j. introne at 8:04 AM
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