Air crisp, breeze blowing, clouds over the mountains... fall in Colorado. A young boy's fancy turns to football...
Walking home from school today I saw some third grade types; three boys. One of them found a football under a shrub. It was sort of far back there, so they had an argument over who was going in to get it. Of course the smallest guy got picked. Anyway, he crawls in, grabs the ball, and comes out saying, "Dude! It's got a signature on it!"
They huddled around it and then tussled over handing it back and forth (Shortie didn't want to let it go, I guess because of the valuable signature.)
"Let me hold it!"
Finally, the ball in plain view to myself, Shortie pointed out the signature to his friends. Beautiful, flowing script, most unlike a football player's, it read clearly: