Children of a Lesser Man
Once upon a time, there lived a fabulously gifted athlete named Derek Hemp. Derek grew tall and strong in the rich gardens of Urbanville----tall like the mighty Hemp plant after which Derek was named. Wise men and women recognized Derek's talents at a young age, cultivating his skills and fertilizing his curiosity. As his teenage years approached, Derek was already a celebrity in Urbanville, besieged by high school recruiters, drug dealers, and retroactive virgins. His place in history was assured when, at age 14, he signed a $56,000,000 guaranteed contract with the local Corporate Sports Entity, thus becoming the first profession athlete to skip both high school and college. The pressure of being an Urban Legend at such a young age was immense, and Derek began to take solace in the Glorious Hemp Plant from which his family name was derived.
Derek always went to practice stoned. He figured that would better prepare him for the actual games, since he was always stoned then too. If a play was run in practice, Derek would blow if off----just improvise--- and hope for the best; perhaps a slam dunk to amaze his worshipful teammates. And, in a game, when the same play was called, the same result---just improvise and hope that the result would show up that night on ESPN.
Although Derek was now a celebrity of national renown, he never forgot his humble origins in Urbanville or the little people who still lived there. During his rare days off he would visit bars, orphanages and massage parlors to bond with the familiars of his youth. He never forgot his roots----or his seeds. He could have had a large corporate Hemp endorsement deal with one of the big cartels, but he chose to buy his weed from the parking lot of same convenience store where he had scored big time in his youth.
Derek also loved the ladies. The smoke was thick--almost purulent--in the bars where he conducted his nightly mating ceremony. But no matter, for in in lust as well as career, Derek was content with the vaguest of shapes and broadest of outlines. Derek would slouch in the corner of Tubby's Sports Bar, his reddened, heavy-lidded eyes gazing covetously at the wet, wild and promiscuous young sisters as they slinked along his Venereal Promenade. Which one would it be tonight? And why should it be just one?
In his rare lucid moments, Derek would dimly perceive an inner emptiness, a sort of gastro-spiritual vacuum deep within . Derek would then sprint down to the local McDonalds and order a dozen or so Happy Meals--an attempt to return to the simple pleasures of his childhood. During a prolonged labor dispute with the Corporate Sports Entity, his emptiness was so acute that he ate dozens of Happy Meals every day. When the labor lockout ended, the mighty Hemp had grown to over 300 pounds and, truly, the seeds of his own destruction had been sown. When asked by newspaper reporters to name his ideal playing weight, he awoke long enough to mutter "64," apparently confusing his I.Q. with his body weight.
As the years went by Derek's reputation, as well as his endorsement revenue, began to decline. Despite all the publicity surrounding his pot bust--arrested in the men's room just before the Corporate Entity Conference Finals--he still stubbornly resisted a Hemp endorsement. His deal with Inverse Shoes was terminated after an embarrasing incident at the Olympics, when Derek couldn't find his Inhale Hemp custom sneakers and was forced to play in a pair of Wing tips. Also his lucrative deal with the Conquering Hero Condom Company was terminated when an expose in Jock Confidential magazine revealed him to have seven illegitimate children, most of whom he had never even seen. The headline "Derek Hemp: Broken Condoms, Broken Promises," made him a role model for irresponsible young males throughout the world. His name was also frequently mentioned on late-night television, where desperate geeks with big jaws and ugly hair used him as a "go to" guy when their flaccid monologues lost momentum.
Often, Derek would skip practice or a game or the playoffs to attend a charitable function. Coincidentally, a Spin Meister of the Corporate Sports Entity would also attend and, equally coincidentally, a full video crew would also. In a final, odds-defying bit of serendipity, the resulting video would be shown to a world-wide audience, often during half time of a game which Derek had skipped.
One day---actually game six of the conference finals-- Derek decided to visit a local orphanage, with Spin Meister and video crew dutifully in tow. The Spin Meister assured him that the children in this orphanage were so sad that even the perpetually somnambulant Hemp would find the experience virtually authentic. Derek was nearly awake as he and the entourage alighted at the Urbanville Community Orphanage. His mood lightened as he squeezed the fresh, enticing buttocks of the young p.r. staffer who accompanied him. Derek was just beginning his well-worn soliloquy on the superiority of "natural" (no condoms, no foam) love, as the group pressed through the doors of the orphanage.
Although his lust was temporarily stymied, Derek felt instantly at home. In fact, the Main Room resembled a Derek Hemp Museum. Why there were posters of him everywhere! Derek Slammin', Derek Jammin', Derek standing in line at McDonald's, Derek appealing his conviction---all displayed on the walls with care and reverence. Did they just put the posters up to honor today's visit? Or was this seemingly wretched place a permanent shrine to the glories of the Mighty Hemp?
Furthermore, Derek felt a puzzling affinity for the gaggle of urchins hovering around him. The lazy, heavy-lidded smile of one, the contagious enthusiasm of another, the aroma of burning rope on yet another; all conspired to make the Mighty Hemp feel at home. Derek played with the children for several minutes, his Visine-whitened eyes glimmering for the benefit of the video crew.
Soon Derek grew weary of this heavily choreographed spontaneity, so he signaled to his comely Spin Mistress that it was time to leave. He was just about to grab her a..... when she chided him: "But Derek, don't you want to stay? After all, these are your children!"
Derek stared right past her, slack-jawed and stunned. Inside his drug-addled brain, several of the remaining viable neurons were struggling to formulate a response.
"Huh?"
She smiled, a sharp note of derision creeping into her otherwise silky-smooth professional voice: "These kids---ALL these kids---are your illegitimate songs and daughters. The child welfare authorities had them all moved to this house to reduce administrative and legal expenses. All those court actions to enforce child-support payments have become very costly to the state. Your pictures are on the wall because that's the only contact these kids have with their daddy. Wouldn't you like to stay just a little longer?"
By now, all seven of Derek's brain cells were on red alert. He quickly and casually murmured a response.
"No. Let's go."
Several months later Derek, as always comfortably comatose, wrapped his yellow Humvee around a telephone pole while making an emergency trip to Burger King. Medics had to use the Jaws of Life to break through the dense layer of smoke inside the incredibly pretentious mode of transportation. Doctors pronounced him S.O.A. (Stoned on Arrival) at the hospital, immediately embarking on a futile attempt to save the few remaining neurons. But, alas, his long Season Of Glory had ended; for the Mighty Hemp was dead.
Soon the eulogies began. Teammates lauded his "dedication"--though he rarely went to practice. Columnists emphasized his "competitive spirit"--though he never won a single championship in twenty years of competitive sports. Hosts of Hot Sports Talk Radio reminisced about his "class"--apparently forgetting the numerous obscenity-laced tirades he had launched against the media throughout his career. Finally and predictably, the Corporate Sports Entity branded him a "humanitarian"--simply because they enjoyed lieing.
Derek's funeral was attended by twenty thousand people; all ex-lovers, eager for one final moment in the Sports Virility Spotlight. Considered together, these Sluts-in-Mourning must have purchased every revealing black dress in Urbanville. His children did not attend.
© 1999 Charlotte & Dennis Hayes