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JIM TRESSEL'S VACATION: THE RETURN HOME

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Jim Tressel is finishing the final leg of his journey home from a worldwide walkabout. He sold his passport for entry into a man-dog fighting tournament in Afghanistan, but borders are but figments of the imagination for the brave and determined.

THE UNITED STATES/MEXICAN BORDER. 9:12 a.m. MEXICAN SIDE

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A crowd of migrant workers headed north mills around on a desolate patch of yellow earth covered in scrub. Three sad strings of rusty barbed wire mark the border. There is a sudden stir in the crowd. The men focus on a single hooded figure walking through the crowd carrying a jug of water.

Mexican one: Mira, mira! (points) Es El Escarlata!

Mexican one: El Escarlata! El Escarlata! Usted es una leyenda!

Mexican two: El Escarlata! Impregnar mi esposa! Por favor!

Mexican three: Pis en mi dedos de los pies! Sería una bendición, El Escarlata!

Mexican three! Por favor, díganos las verdades esenciales del universo El Escarlata!

A silence falls. El Escarlata pauses, and then intones these words.

El Escarlata: Ha sido 1889 días desde Michigan derrotados del Universidad de Estado de Ohio. Now out of my way. There's a hot lassie with gorilla fever in Columbus, Ohio. She needs a banana, and I've got one to give her.

In unison: VIVA EL ESCARLATA!!! VIVA EL ESCARLATA!!!! VIVA EL ESCARLATA!!!