Witness

6/22/2001

Witness:
Re-invent the Blush

         Mom awoke as I drove through the throng of the parking lot. We had arrived late, as everyone on my brother James's visiting team had trouble finding these soccer fields. Why, even the players were hurriedly changing into their uniforms in the open.

         While I scanned for a place to park, Mom commented on how surprising it was that the boys would strip in public. "There's one kid who certainly doesn't mind!" She indicated a player ahead and chuckled.

         The kid was bent over, the broad expanse of the tighty-whiteys on his backside available for the world to witness. As the lad stood up, I pointed out, "Uh, Mom, that's Jimmy."