New Troy

Short little writing exercise.  Using a writing prompt from Reddit with the assignment being to write as if for a Roman Newspaper in a parallel universe in which Rome never fell and Gladiators still exist.


New Troy, West Major Italy
Feb 26th, 2018

The pain split him like a thunderbolt through an old oak, but Jan Vergison clinched the Gladius Crown once again, defeating Re'Bul Athinias by Certain Death.

Vergison, a 17 year veteran used his standard "Tri-Claw" to best Athinias' who controversially wielded his personal dual bladed Bo Staff that he calls "Molevelance instead of the state of the art battle ax "Adidioso Xoom"introduced this year by Adidias.

The match started off quickly with Vergison lunging into the middle of the arena to score a quick jab into the right abdomen of Athinias.  The jab nearly ended the match then and there as the "HumaScan" replay showed that Athinias nearly had his small intestine severed and ripped but the cut missed by just 8 millimeters.

"I just knew I had to get inside fast.  I work everyday on my quickness, because in the end that's what my opponents aren't ready for.  They know that I have the strength, the will and the tenacity, but I've always felt my speed is my real advantage."

Still even after being cut first, Athinias managed to come up with a brilliant counter offensive.  Swinging, at times, wildly, but none the less effectively, Athinias backed up the veteran into the North East quadrant, where the gravity effects would help slow his opponent down.

At post match, the LifeAfterDeath A.I. revealed Athinias was confident about his ability to keep space via his weapon choice.  "The best chance for me, I felt, was to keep distance and I had to back him up after his initial strike."

Still, Vergison, who had been placed into the Gladius Rights program at age 12 after pulling a toy gun on another student and was born with a level 24 mental rating, showed again his renowned tolerance for pain as well as a near suicidal level of risk tolerance. 

Despite being speared in his right clavicle, Vergison made a final charge and with a right uppercut split Athinias skull in two, plunging in the soft opening below his helmet and moving in an upward motion ending in victory.  The match lasted six minute

For winning, Vergison will be awarded 100 million dollars, and be allowed to live at least five more years should he retire.  His current wish, to once again live freely among the general public, will again not be granted.

While the inside of the match was one to behold for the sport, the Gladius Crown was again protested by a vocal group saying that it is time for a change, and that the sentencing of criminals to sport for the public's interest has led to slavery of the poor.

In total, the viewership was again down, as only 35% watched the blood sport.

Gun Laws Are A Start. Integration and Education Matter Too.

It's not just gun laws, but gun culture that needs to change. We need to begin to look at guns and violence in general as a lesser option in this country. Wars and violence in the world are not to be celebrated.  It is to be discouraged as a primary objective of humanity.

The freedom that we have right now to bear arms is a large one; it is the most dangerous one.  We regulate everything else, we regulate our medicine, we regulate the drugs, we regulate cars , we regulate taxes and all sorts of things. But the deadliest things? The things that can cause harm to one another?   The ease of procurement of lethal weaponry in the US is second to none.  Both legally and illegally.

Young people and people that are emotionally or mentally disturbed OR MAY BECOME emotionally or mentally disturbed have it very easy to obtain a weapon in this country and that presents a problem in this day and age when those weapons can decimate a large number of people in an extremely short period of time.

I believe that people have a right to defend themselves with a personal defense weapon.

I believe that that weapon should be capable of completely incapacitating an aggressor.

I believe in the right to hunt with certain restrictions.  You can't change the entire ecosystem by decimating a population of elephants, for example.

I believe that skill shooting is a valid competition.

However I believe that gun ownership is a huge responsibility and as such, checks must be made to ensure the safety of others in this regulation.  Guns are weapons.  Let's not pretend that their function isn't primarily to shoot and destroy things. 

I think that a yearly check to ensure the person doesn't have any prior drug or alcohol related offenses for the past year.  That they don't have any violent offenses.  Not just to purchase a weapon, but to maintain ownership, especially if when referring to military grade weaponry. 

I believe that people can act responsibly one day and irresponsibly the next, so I don't think a one time purchase should lead to a lifetime of ownership for assault rifles and semi automatic weaponry.  It would be great if mankind constantly acted rationally at all times, but we know this is not the case.

I don't have the right right now to medicate however I please. There are certain drugs I can take and there's certain drugs that I cannot take.  The government attempts to regulate personal health with greater scrutiny than it regulates potential death to its own citizenry via the hostile actions of others. 

In some things I agree, that opioids in particular need to be an extremely scrutinized category drug due it's nature of addiction as well as acute overdose dangers. 

Marijuana on the other hand I find less destructive than alcohol, and shouldn't be regulated by the government.

I think it is time to regulate with far greater scrutiny weapons with large magazines and weapons that can discharge at a disproportionate rate.  We need to regulate them at least as well as we regulate cars, or medicine.

But the gun laws are really only part of the problem the real problem in the core of it starts with who we are as like a people and how much do we love each other and try to support one another versus how much are we looking out for ourselves and our own selfish interest and greed.
 

I believe that the school shootings in particular could be prevented by additional help and funding in the classroom and in school and escalating problems and how we interact with one another how we interact and deal with bullying in our lives at an early age, talking to one another and communicating to one another is one of the most important things that you can learn.  I think it helps prevent anger and hostility towards one another when we treat each other in it. Don't bully tease and put people in isolation that don't need to be there.

For some people its hard or difficult to interact with the outside world and they have fears or anxieties or their stress or any multitude of things but it's important as a society to try to reach out and love those that maybe other people have had difficulty reaching out to for whatever reason.

I really believe that America as I see it today is at a bit of a crossroads to who we want to be. Do we want to be a country that is angry all the time that embraces this winning or nothing mentality and will do anything to get ahead?  Or do we bond together and try to talk about things that affect everybody even though you may not be able to see it or feel it at times.  To take action on helping other people with social programs that uplift the country as a whole, rather than invest in a weapons and military industry that in my view isn't built for the problems and securities of today.

Gun activists and proponents of guns and their freedom with them like to point out that if the person was dedicated enough he could still get his hands on multitudes of weapons or bombs or poison or what have you to have a great effect on their target whatever their target is which is true.

However we still don't see though any of those sorts of activities happening in other countries.  For example we don't see the disaffected youth of France you know bombing their schools we don't see the disaffected youth of Germany, Russia, Australia, Franz, the UK, Mexico, Canada, for anywhere else in the world destroying their own.

I am sure there have been isolated incidents all across the world, but they are exceedingly rare in comparison to what is going on in the United States right now.

So I think to myself. What is the reason that are youth and our populace is so upset and why are we so angry and why are we so scared?

One of the things I think is a problem is that we are constantly pumped fear by our politicians and news media about different things, namely crime. We always have a fear of a burglar, a rapist, a murderer, a terrorist or an off kilter nut-job.

The second thing that I think is that our schools are woefully inadequate and how they are performing and how they are funded, the kids aren't getting nearly enough resources and things such as bullying and social isolation need to be addressed.

If we want better kids and we want better parents and we want everything to be better, we need to begin to at the very start and investing in our future we need to invest our collective ability to learn and adapt and that comes primarily through education.

We need to invest to get a people, opportunities and jobs. Technical and trade schools.  Community Colleges.  Anything really to kind of help get people working and being productive would be great. 

In the end, while restricting access to military grade weaponry will help, it will  by embracing a culture that loves one another rather than fears and hates one another.  Build through education and social programs that uplift.  Care for one another rather than only looking to help ones self.

A Valentine.

To explain my love to you is to try to attempt to explain the movement of time.  Because that's how I feel when I look at you.  That I see the same girl I came to see in Wellsboro who greeted me with a big smile and warm hug.  The same girl I would disappoint by failing properly cook a pinterest dessert. 

Every time I see your eyes I see that first year.

But I also see all the other years and events.

When you first moved down for a Summer while working at the Shoe Dept. for a summer. 

Moving into Toftree's and then you moving to State College.

Trips to Orlando, Arizona, and San Diego.

Our trips to Philadelphia and Pittsburgh to see friends.

The beach and motel in Wildwood where we've nearly every Summer.

It seems to hit me all at once sometimes.

Perhaps that's best way to describe love.  Something that makes you feel so good that the laws of time stop.  That you can draw on an experience from the past and experience it all over again just by a look, a laugh, a smile.

While the origins of Valentine's day may be arbitrarily concocted, my love for you is real, and I hope that you know that always.

Love Ben

Do You Believe In Santa Claus?

Do You Believe In Santa Claus? 

A fictional story about professional football and a betrayal of faith.

2:05 AM Feb 4^th, 2018

Tom spent most of the small hours of the night pacing nervously in his hotel suite, his feet and hands sweating as he thought about the phone call.

His time was up. 

It wasn’t all his fault anyway, he thought.  After all it really could have been anyone, he just happened to come along at the right place and right time.  He was just following orders.  He had no time for his periphery vision to be wasted for the outside world.

They had told him what to do.  They always did.  Whether it was the old man who looked fake with his combed over silver hair and plush ties, or the younger man who looked older than any of them and smelled of bad cigars and expensive scotch.

“Come to bed,” whispered an unseen angelic figure from the opaque shadow.

“In a minute, I gotta’ get my head right” he answered with just enough emphasis to not be questioned.

His mind hammered and his stomach seemed empty and sick at the same time.

He walked out into the hallway, the lights out save for some iridescent blue lighting coming from the security lights.

For the first time in over 18 years, Tom wondered who he would be.

Here he was, the poster boy on the video game covers.  The one that married the Super Model.  The one that everyone (or at least a large section of the general population) wanted to be.

He was the best, the most decorated ever, and he just wanted one more ring, just one more.  It’s all that he ever really wanted anymore.  The only thing that didn’t seem guaranteed.  The only thing that was up for grabs.

But he was wrong, and now he had to choose his next steps carefully.

Should he continue to play their game?  Or should he chart his own path and expose it all?

Why did he care?

Tom wasn’t one to question his own success until now.  After all, he knew how hard he worked, how much he studied the game.  He put hours after hours, listening to coaches, reviewing the film.  It consumed him.  At times it was ALL he thought about.

Be the best, work the hardest, don’t doubt your own ability.  Believe in yourself.  Believe in the impossible. 

Yet that Saturday night, on the eve the biggest sports event in the world, in which he would star, Tom finally asked himself whether he was acting the part of the hero rather than being it.

The League had made him a millionaire ten times over.  He was in so many ways indebted to it.

“3 Out Slot, Ghost Tracer, 73 on set, Tom, watch the blitz, they love to blitz this down, if so look to your Hot.”

It happened just like that. 

Not all, but most.

Tom had always thought this was the brilliance of his coach, the ability to predict blitzes and coverages, based on little more than scouting and intuition.  Perhaps some analytics.

“Tom, I think they’ll be in cover 3 here, you should have Gronk on the cross.”

“Hey, keep your tail in to block, might be a zone blitz.”

But that was all before the phone call…

6:18 PM Feb 3^rd, 2018

It was snowing outside in Minnesota with a kind of unsympathetic cold, and it was generally as Minnesotan as a winter day could get.  Tom was engrossed with his tablet studying film, his soul consumed with the thought of becoming the best at EVERYTHING, to put more on his mantle than anyone before him or would again.  He felt he was close.

He wasn’t startled so much as annoyed, but when the caller ID read that the cigar man was calling he picked up.  He would always pick up for him.

“Tom…” The voice came but without the steely resolve and confidence it was known for, as though it was searching for its own identity.

“Tom, I’m sorry.  We had a good run, but it’s over.”

“Sorry what?”

“It’s over Tom, we can’t do it anymore, it’s too risky, and you are going to have to take the hit.”

“Bill what the fuck are you talking about”

“Tom, it’s always been this way, we never tell you guys anything until we think you’re ready, and, well, you might not be ready, but we have to move now.  There’s just too much money invested elsewhere.  We had our run, but it’s over.  You’re going to have to take the hit.”

Tom attempted to speak but he had no words yet.  He felt as though someone was joking with him.  Putting him on as a prank.

“Tom, I…I’m sorry.  We had a great run.  But it’s over.  In the third quarter, they’re going to blitz, we will call the ghost right, but you are going to take a big hit, and I just want you to be ready, because it’s the last one you get to take.  After this, you may decide to announce, maybe you’ll coach, but no one wants to see you or I on the field anymore.  Our story is done.”

“Bill, what…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get paid more than you can imagine.  And you’ll still have a hero’s welcome, and you’ll get your ring, but this is going to be it.  Tom, it’s not real.  The game… It’s an illusion with subtle choreography.  We can’t let the kids know, we can’t let those dumb asses in the south and in the ghettos, know, but it’s finally time you did.  Our sport, what started as a game, became a business, and we can’t stop it anymore.  We stand to gain billions tomorrow.  Do you understand?  Billions.”

Tom felt his stomach grow tighter.  A knot that wasn’t there suddenly ten minutes ago, seemed to have just sprouted and now felt like it was siphoning the flow of blood to the rest of his body.

“It wasn’t always this way, but once television came, and the crowds were selling out, what was everyone supposed to do?  It all started with Otto Graham in the 50’s.  Yes, all the way back then.  You see the game until that point was boring.  The running game was everything to a football game, and it resembled more of a rugby style game that was violent, athletically strenuous, but boring to watch….”

Tom could feel his heart jumping around in his chest like a psychopath against a padded wall.  He could barely listen.  He could barely think.

“Wait, please stop.  Is this some kind of psycho-analytic motivational technique?  If it’s rigged, someone else would have let it slip, there’s no way that many coaches and players could know.  It’s impossible!”  Tom shouted exasperatedly.

“We don’t tell most of you.  Just the legends.  Just the ones that deserve it.  The ones that have given the game and us so much that we will never ever be able to repay you with all the money in the world.  Besides, it’s so much better if you don’t know what’s going on.  You play so much harder.  You nearly kill each other for the sake of the game.

Paul Brown was the first to do it with Otto Graham in Cleveland.  Brown could see that depending on spotting the right defense, the accuracy and beauty of Otto’s throws they were not only nearly unstoppable, but incredibly fun to watch the ball in the right spot more times than not.  People loved to watch his throws come down with those majestic spirals, land deftly in someone’s hands running to the end-zone.  Otto would walk up, see what the defense did and then adjusted.  He did it so well that he won 7 championships and appeared in several more.  Little did Otto know that he was a pawn in Paul’s incredible new game.

It started with just a script.  Simple stuff, really.  Paul and the other coaches would script out the plays for the game.  Not more than maybe 10, then let their players choose what to do during the game.  As the game progressed, they would alert their players to specific designs and needs of the game.  They devised a simple system of signaling to the other coaches that they needed to switch play designs.  Sometimes it didn’t work.  The players didn’t realize it was going on because, well, they were never trained to think that way.  They simply thought their respective coaches only had their players in mind.  It never occurred to them that they would work together.

The start was simple.  They simply would use small non-verbal signals.  They would have “plants” in the stands to observe via binoculars and give the information down.  Of course, mistakes happen, and you couldn’t very well control everything, but this allowed for dramatic comebacks and seemingly insurmountable leads to fall.  The goal was simple, to give the fans something exciting to watch.   Now it’s so much easier with the technology.  We simply tell the other coaches what we’re gonna run, then they tell us what defense they think will produce an interesting play for whichever side we want to have something happen.  We tell you where to look, where the strengths or weaknesses are maybe.  And the 2-minute drills?  They’re always scripted.  We know what offense to run, because we know what defense they’ll be running, and we train you for it.  That’s why we were put in a big hole against Atlanta last year, and why it was so easy to come back. 

Because that’s how it was supposed to go.

People love comeback stories. Sure, sometimes they love pure dominance, but it’s far more thrilling for a back and forth.  We like to root not only for champions, but the underdog champions.  The ones that come back from a War like Otto did after World War II.  Johnny Unitas, who was a ninth-round pick that got cut by Pittsburgh, would become the face of football for the late 50’s and early sixties.  Joe Montana a third-round pick, originally from a small coal mining town.  Kurt Warner was a grocery clerk.  In fact, it was going to be Kurt who we all thought would be the next greatest story, but then 9/11 happened and everyone just wanted to see the red white and blue win as soon as possible.  Baseball fucked it up when the Yankees lost to the Diamondbacks.  Sure, they tried, but it’s so much harder to hit baseballs than it is to throw and catch a football.  Shit happens.”

Tom hung up the phone.

It was all fake?  His life was a lie built on the entertainment of millions and not of his own work?  

The trophies and rings, his awards and stature seemed hollow now.   His arduous work seemed to be to be worthless.  Tom realized his shirt had now soaked through with sweat and he felt an overwhelming need to wash his face.  He rushed to bathroom, put his face to the faucet and attempted to scrub away the avalanche of doubt cascading through his mind.

The phone rang again…





1:15 AM Feb. 4^th, 2018

The night was slipping away with the icy wind.   Tom couldn’t feel the cold as much as he could sense it.  It was a barren and desolate night lacking any hint of warmth in the atmosphere.  He was lost in the moment, unable to move and numb from the reality that was hitting him in the face.

He was a fraud.  A rich and wealthy fraud, but a fraud nonetheless.  How could he have been so blind?  He just wanted to be liked, he wanted the glory of his Idol.  The rings and the recognition.  He knew he wasn’t the strongest or the fastest, but he thought he figured out the game.  That he understood it’s inner workings and could now decimate the opponent through his mind and preparation.  To find out that it was designed for him to win; that he was destined to be great through the work of people above him made him feel as though he had earned nothing. 

6:35 PM Feb. 3^rd, 2018

“It’s about the story, Tom, it’s always about the story.  We’ve been telling ours for almost twenty years.  It’s amazing how people only see what they want to see.  They wanted to see you win, the underdog from Michigan, a sixth round back up with gutty long drives.  The ball you threw seemed so beautiful, and obviously you looked the part.  Hell, obviously you still look the part!  We took you up and down and I’m sorry for that play against Kansas City.  We knew you were going to get hit a lot that game, but we never expected him to hit you low.

But that’s just part of business, you know?  You picked yourself back up and the next year we made sure you came in with that bang in Buffalo.  So, it works out.  It’s not like you haven’t been rewarded for what you’ve done. 

But it’s no longer up to us, it’s up the creators now and they say it’s time for some new blood.  Maybe Wentz, maybe Goff, maybe even DeShaun if he can come back and play.  The comeback kids are so easy to root for, so easy to believe in. 

If Tebow could have thrown better, he’d probably already have a few titles, but the kid just threw an ugly looking ball.  It would never translate. 

Anyway, the play is in the third, you’ll go reach for your knee and that’s it.  From there we can discuss what your retirement options can be.  Just listen for Josh to say “Santa” over the radio.

Again Tom, I’m sorry, but we’ll talk more later.”

8:30 PM Feb. 4^th, 2018

Tom felt no pain, and walked into the blue injury tent, where somehow the old man had made his way in.

“Great show, great show.”

He could look at the man’s hands, looking at the rings.

“Can’t believe I got you those...” murmured Tom.

The old man winked.  “Oh, my dear son, did you think you were a good boy all these years?  That you earned the presents under your tree?  You did well, but not any better than any of the other boys.  You see, Santa isn’t real, just their fathers, and luckily for you, you simply had the best father.  I’d spoil you more, but it’s time to get out of the house so to speak.  It’s time for you to grow up.  We still need you Tom, but now instead of executing our game, you need to take the next step.  To be where I am, to make me truly proud, you need design your own game.  Bill will help you if you like.  He’s been great at doing it since his days with the Giants.  But now it’s time to shut the door on your imagination and tell you the truth about Santa Claus.”