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
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!!!