through all our days together my father returned time and again to a favorite saying.
"Suck in that gut1 and go harder."
He never suggested that this saying of his ranked with the maxims2 of Teddy Roosevelt. Still, he was dedicated3 to it. He believed in the idea that a simple but lasting4 reward, something just short of a presidential handshake, awaited the extra effort, the persevering5 act of a tired man. Backbone6, will, mental toughness, desire—these were his themes, the qualities that insured success. He was a pharmaceutical7 salesman with a lazy son.
It seems that wherever I went I was hounded by people urging me to suck in my gut and go harder. They would never give tip on me—my father, my teachers, my coaches, even a girl friend or two. I was a challenge, I guess: a piece of string that does not wish to be knotted. My father was by far the most tireless of those who tried to give me direction, to sharpen my initiative, to piece together some collective memory of hardwon land or dusty struggles in the sun. He put a sign in my room.
WHEN THE GOING GETS TOUGH THE TOUGH GET GOING
I looked at this sign for three years (roughly from ages fourteen to seventeen) before I began to perceive a certain beauty in it. The sentiment of course had small appeal but it seemed that beauty flew from the words themselves, the letters, consonants8 swallowing vowels9, aggression10 and tenderness, a semiselfrecreation from line to line, word to word, letter to letter. All meaning faded. The words became pictures. It was a sinister11 thing to discover at such an age, that words can escape their meanings. A strange beauty that sign began to express.
My father had a territory and a company car. He sold vitamins, nutritional12 supplements, mineral preparations, and antibiotics13. His customers included about fifty doctors and dentists, about a dozen pharmacies14, a few hospitals, some drug wholesalers. He had specific goals, both geographic15 and economic, each linked with the other, and perhaps because of this he hated waste of any kind, of shoe leather, talent, irretrievable time. (Get cracking, Straighten out. Hang in.) It paid, in his view, to follow the simplest, most pioneer of rhythms—the eternal work cycle, the bloodhunt for bear and deer, the mellow16 rocking of chairs as screen doors swing open and bang shut in the gathering17 fragments of summer's sulky dusk. Beyond these honest latitudes18 lay nothing but chaos19.
He had played football at Michigan State. He had ambitions on my behalf and more or less at my expense. This is the custom among men who have failed to be heroes; their sons must prove that the seed was not impoverished21. He had spent his autumn Saturdays on the sidelines, watching others fall in battle and rise then to the thunder of the drums and the crowd's demanding chants. He put me in a football uniform very early. Then, as a high school junior, I won allstate honors at halfback. (This was the first of his ambitions and as it turned out the only one to be fulfilled.) Eventually I received twentyeight offers of athletic22 scholarships—tuition, books, room and board, fifteen dollars a month. There were several broad hints of further almsgiving. Visions were painted of lovely young ladies with charitable instincts of their own. It seemed that every section of the country had much to offer in the way of scenery, outdoor activities, entertainment, companionship, and even, if necessary, education.
On the application blanks, I had to fill in my height, my weight, my academic average and my time for the 40yard dash.
I handed over a letter of acceptance to Syracuse University. I was eager to enrich their tradition of great running backs. They threw me out when I barricaded23 myself in my room with two packages of Oreo cookies and a girl named Lippy Margolis. She wanted to hide from the world and I volunteered to help her. For a day and a night we read to each other from a textbook on economics. She seemed calmed by the incoherent doctrines24 set forth25 on those pages. When I was sure I had changed the course of her life for the better, I opened the door.
At Perm State, the next stop, I studied hard and played well. But each, day that autumn was exactly like the day before and the one to follow. I had not yet learned to appreciate the slowly gliding26 drift of identical things; chunks27 of time spun28 past me like meteorites29 in a universe predicated on repetition. For weeks the cool clear weather was unvarying; the girls wore white kneehigh stockings; a small red plane passed over the practice field every afternoon at the same time. There was something hugely Asian about those days in Pennsylvania. I tripped on the same step on the same staircase on three successive days. After this I stopped going to practice. The freshman30 coach wanted to know what was up. I told him I knew all the plays; there was no reason to practice them over and over; the endless repetition might be spiritually disastrous31; we were becoming a nation devoted32 to human xerography. He and I had a long earnest discussion. Much was made of my talent and my potential value to the varsity squad33. Oneness was stressed—the oneness necessary for a winning team. It was a good concept, oneness, but I suggested that, to me at least, it could not be truly attractive unless it meant oneness with God or the universe or some equally redoubtable34 superphenomenon. What he meant by oneness was in fact elevenness or twentytwoness. He told me that my attitude was all wrong. People don't go to football games to see pass patterns run by theologians. He told me, in effect, that I would have to suck in my gut and go harder. (1) A team sport. (2) The need to sacrifice. (3) Preparation for the future. (4) Microcosm of life.
"You're saying that what I learn on the gridiron about sacrifice and oneness will be of inestimable value later on in life. In other words if I give up now I'll almost surely give up in the more important contests of the future."
"That's it exactly, Gary."
"I'm giving up," I said.
It was a perverse35 thing to do—go home and sit through a blinding white winter in the Adirondacks. I was passing through one of those odd periods of youth in which significance is seen only on the blankest of walls, found only in dull places, and so I thought I'd turn my back to the world and to my father's sign and try to achieve, indeed, establish, some lowly form of American sainthood. The repetition of Perm State was small stuff compared to that deep winter. For five months I did nothing and then repeated it. I had breakfast in the kitchen, lunch in my room, dinner at the dinner table with the others, meaning my parents. They concluded that I was dying of something slow and incurable36 and that I did not wish to tell them in order to spare their feelings. This was an excellent thing to infer for all concerned. My father took down the sign and hung in its place a framed photo of his favorite pro20 team, the Detroit Lions—their official team picture. In late spring, a word appeared all over town. militarize. The word was printed on cardboard placards that stood in shop windows. It was scrawled37 on fences. It was handwritten on looseleaf paper taped to the windshields of cars. It appeared on bumper38 stickers and signboards.
I had accomplished39 nothing all those months and so I decided40 to enroll41 at the University of Miami. It wasn't a bad place. Repetition gave way to the beginnings of simplicity42. (A preparation thus for Texas) I wanted badly to stay. I liked playing football and I knew that by this time I'd have trouble finding another school that would take me. But I had to leave. It started with a book, an immense volume about the possibilities of nuclear war— assigned reading for a course I was taking in modes of disaster technology. The problem was simple and terrible: I enjoyed the book. I liked reading about the deaths of tens of millions of people. I liked dwelling43 on the destruction of great cities. Five to twenty million dead. Fifty to a hundred million dead. Ninety percent population loss. Seattle wiped out by mistake. Moscow demolished44. Airbursts over every SAC base in Europe. I liked to think of huge buildings toppling, of firestorms, of bridges collapsing45, survivors46 roaming the charred47 countryside. Carbon 14 and strontium 90. Escalation48 ladder and subcrisis situation. Titan, Spartan49, Poseidon. People burned and unable to breathe. People being evacuated50 from doomed51 cities. People diseased and starving. Two hundred thousand bodies decomposing52 on the roads outside Chicago. I read several chapters twice. Pleasure in the contemplation of millions dying and dead. I became fascinated by words and phrases like thermal53 hurricane, overkill, circular error probability, postattack environment, stark deterrence54, doserate contours, killratio, spasm55 war. Pleasure in these words. They were extremely effective, I thought, whispering shyly of cycles of destruction so great that the language of past world wars became laughable, the wars themselves somewhat naive56. A thrill almost sensual accompanied the reading of this book. What was wrong with me? Had I gone mad? Did others feel as I did? I became seriously depressed57. Yet I went to the library and got more books on the subject. Some of these had been published well after the original volume and things were much more uptodate. Old weapons vanished. Megatonnage soared. New concepts appeared—the rationality of irrationality58, hostage cities, orbital attacks. I became more fascinated, more depressed, and finally I left Coral Gables and went back home to my room and to the official team photo of the Detroit Lions. It seemed the only thing to do. My mother brought lunch upstairs. I took the dog for walks.
In time the draft board began to get interested. I allowed my father to get in touch with a former classmate of his, an influential59 alumnus of Michigan State. Negotiations60 were held and I was granted an interview with two subalterns of the athletic department, types familiar to football and other paramilitary complexes, the squarejawed bedrock of the corporation. They knew what I could do on the football field, having followed my high school career, but they wouldn't accept me unless I could convince them that I was ready to take orders, to pursue a mature course, to submit my will to the common good. I managed to convince them. I went to East Lansing the following autumn, an aging recruit, and was leading the freshman squad in touchdowns, yards gained rushing, and platitudes61. Then, in a game against the Indiana freshmen62, I was one of three players converging63 on a safetyman who had just intercepted64 a pass. We seemed to hit him simultaneously65. He died the next day and I went home that evening.
I stayed in my room for seven weeks this time, shuffling66 a deck of cards. I got to the point where I could cut to the six of spades about three out of five times, as long as I didn't try it too often, abuse the gift, as long as I tried only when I truly felt an emanation from the six, when I knew in my fingers that I could cut to that particular card.
Then I got a phone call from Emmett Creed67. Two days later he flew up to see me. I liked the idea of losing myself in an obscure part of the world. And I had discovered a very simple truth. My life meant nothing without football.
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1
gut
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| n.[pl.]胆量；内脏；adj.本能的；vt.取出内脏 | |
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maxims
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| n.格言，座右铭( maxim的名词复数 ) | |
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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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persevering
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| a.坚忍不拔的 | |
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backbone
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| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
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pharmaceutical
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| adj.药学的，药物的；药用的，药剂师的 | |
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consonants
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| n.辅音，子音( consonant的名词复数 )；辅音字母 | |
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vowels
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| n.元音，元音字母( vowel的名词复数 ) | |
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aggression
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| n.进攻，侵略，侵犯，侵害 | |
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sinister
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| adj.不吉利的，凶恶的，左边的 | |
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nutritional
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| adj.营养的，滋养的 | |
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antibiotics
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| n.（用作复数）抗生素；（用作单数）抗生物质的研究；抗生素，抗菌素( antibiotic的名词复数 ) | |
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pharmacies
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| 药店 | |
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geographic
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| adj.地理学的，地理的 | |
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mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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latitudes
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| 纬度 | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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impoverished
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| adj.穷困的，无力的，用尽了的v.使（某人）贫穷( impoverish的过去式和过去分词 )；使（某物）贫瘠或恶化 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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barricaded
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| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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doctrines
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| n.教条( doctrine的名词复数 )；教义；学说；（政府政策的）正式声明 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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chunks
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| 厚厚的一块( chunk的名词复数 )； （某物）相当大的数量或部分 | |
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spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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meteorites
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| n.陨星( meteorite的名词复数 ) | |
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freshman
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| n.大学一年级学生(可兼指男女) | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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squad
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| n.班，小队，小团体；vt.把…编成班或小组 | |
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redoubtable
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| adj.可敬的；可怕的 | |
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perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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incurable
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| adj.不能医治的，不能矫正的，无救的；n.不治的病人，无救的人 | |
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scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bumper
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| n.(汽车上的)保险杠；adj.特大的，丰盛的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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enroll
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| v.招收；登记；入学；参军；成为会员（英)enrol | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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demolished
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| v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 )；推翻；拆毁（尤指大建筑物）；吃光 | |
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collapsing
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| 压扁[平]，毁坏，断裂 | |
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survivors
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| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
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charred
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| v.把…烧成炭( char的过去式)；烧焦 | |
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escalation
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| n.扩大，增加 | |
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spartan
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| adj.简朴的，刻苦的；n.斯巴达；斯巴达式的人 | |
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evacuated
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| 撤退者的 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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52
decomposing
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| 腐烂( decompose的现在分词 )； （使）分解； 分解（某物质、光线等） | |
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53
thermal
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| adj.热的，由热造成的；保暖的 | |
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54
deterrence
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| 威慑，制止； 制止物，制止因素； 挽留的事物； 核威慑 | |
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spasm
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| n.痉挛，抽搐；一阵发作 | |
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56
naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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57
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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irrationality
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| n. 不合理，无理性 | |
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influential
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| adj.有影响的，有权势的 | |
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negotiations
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| 协商( negotiation的名词复数 )； 谈判； 完成（难事）； 通过 | |
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platitudes
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| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
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freshmen
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| n.（中学或大学的）一年级学生( freshman的名词复数 ) | |
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converging
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| adj.收敛[缩]的，会聚的，趋同的v.（线条、运动的物体等）会于一点( converge的现在分词 )；（趋于）相似或相同；人或车辆汇集；聚集 | |
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64
intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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