Beta Pi Blog, Vol.2008, No.16 - Guest Blogmiester Frank Collins

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The impact of the Perout Pictorial Bonanza has sent waves of inspiration spanning the globe! Evidence, a fine tale from days-o-yore, with chuckles-o-plenty, penned by none-other-than the Immortal Marty . . .

GUEST BLOGMIESTER FRANK COLLINS!

"THE SHOES OF CHAMPIONS, A PEROUT TALE"

My personal Perout story centers on the Intra Fraternity track meet in 1974, I believe. Some knucklehead decided I was the right Tick-a-lor to run The Mile - or maybe I was the only knucklehead to accept the invitation to run the mile. I don' recall.

All I owned at the time were old Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers suitable for the basketball courts of Memorial Gymnasium, but not for this track meet wherever that was.

Jeff Perout volunteered me his track shoes. To me, they felt like socks with metal spikes under the toes. Jeff assured me that these were "the shoes of champions," and so I lined up for the race.

The gun sounded! Off I went leaving my opponents in the proverbial dust. I thought to myself, hey, piece of cake. I am gonna kick some butt here. And off I went, leading the way and wondering why I had never run track before - until, say, um, about lap two.

Suddenly the "wall" that any marathoner (which I am not) will tell you they hit at mile 18, commenced to smack me down at, um, oh, mile ½. My legs got heavier and heavier. My wind began to give out. And my opponents gained on me rapidly.

I could play basketball for 4 hours with Arms Aylward, why, I asked my God at that moment, couldn't I move my legs;

and why, I asked my God at that moment, were my lungs on fire;

and why, I asked my God at that moment (specifically rounding the back turn of lap 4), is it that Buck Biller can run backwards in his Hush Puppies faster than I can at this moment in time???

Buck had chugged across the infield and, yes indeed, was cheering me on, screaming is more like it, saying something along the lines of "Get the lead out, Marty!" And yes it is true that he was running backwards at that point in the race and running faster backwards than I was forward in Perout’s track shoes. Much faster with no sign of labor in his breathing.

And why, I asked my God at that moment, didn’t Buck just run this damn race himself backwards in his Hush Puppies???

I got to the finish line about a half-an-hour after my previously vanquished opponents, collapsed at the finished line, at which moment my legs were seized by multiple cramps.

I believe Buck and Jeff offered me beer, took the shoes and left me writhing in pain, loser that I was...

THANKS TO IMMORTAL MARTY FOR AN AWESOME TALE: Marty!~ Marty!~ Marty!~

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VTL,

Larry Simons

Beta Pi, 72