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29 November
Stadium
5:20 pm
Over the commotion of the rowdy fans, attendants
were yelling about tickets.
I wondered where my pursuer was.
I ducked under some scaffolding and found
myself on a ramp where the players themselves suddenly appeared,
charging up the slope, pumped to the max, about to hurl themselves onto
the field. But it wasn't only the players who suddenly appeared:
alongside them was Pepper Spray Cop!
Somehow he'd managed to keep me in sight.
He was bearing down on me, pushing his way past people to get closer. He
looked more determined than ever to get me.
"Hey!" he shouted, as I ducked into the
line of players. They were so fired up and focused that they didn't even
notice me as they surged along.
Before I knew it, I was running out onto
the oval with them! I ducked behind one of the players as I ran into the
stadium, barely conscious of the exposure of my surroundings, desperate
to escape the vengeful cop and the rest of the police backup he'd have
behind him.
I was dimply aware of the roar going up
from the tens of thousands of fans who seethed with hysterical
excitement for the upcoming game and their team.
Players from the opposing team stormed
onto the oval, and the home crowd exploded into menacing booing and
hissing. I looked around me--huge spotlights shone down like a hundred
police choppers. I was a fugitive, mixed up in the beginning of a highly
anticipated game!
My eyes darted around, searching for an
escape, running over the crowd like a wave. Another tremendous roar
erupted--even louder and more intimidating than before. My sight stopped
circling. I'd landed on the massive television screen, looming high on
one end of the stadium. On it was a huge close-up of me!
My face!
I'd been recognized! Again the crowd
roared like thunder. I ducked and ran, but was immediately tackled by
one of the players who'd spotted the imposter. The audience went wild!
Winded, I struggled to my feet. Now the crowd was yelling out my name!
"Cal-lum! Cal-lum! Cal-lum! Cal-lum!"
I took off running as fast as my legs
would carry me. I had to go faster than ever--I had professional
athletes on my tail. The sound from the crowd was insane! The TV
cameramen were providing a new game--Chase the Fugitive--and the crowd
was loving it. They were all pointing at me like I was a horse at the
races.
I couldn't avoid seeing myself up there
on the screen as I moved this way then that, sprinting in zigzag angles,
confusing the players who were trying to catch me.
I'd almost forgotten about Pepper Cop--I
was just running! Players came at me from all angles, but I was smaller
and faster. I'd had almost a year's training now, and I wasn't just here
to win a game, I was running for my life!
I ducked and swerved, avoiding them,
while the crowd was chanting, "Cal-lum, Cal-lum, Cal-lum!"
A stream of police poured onto the field,
and now a siren was wailing over the top of the chanting. In the
grandstands, the crowd started booing the police! The angry mob was
whistling and hissing at them, like the police were the opponents!
For some strange reason, the crowd was on
my side! It didn't make sense! I was the Psycho Kid, not their hero.
The masses in the stands were now
shouting, "Go Cal! Go, Cal!" It spurred me on, and I exploded in one
direction, then, swiveling like an ice skater, I skidded away in the
completely opposite direction, and off of the field.
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