Quit idolizing sports figures, stars athletes, anyone involved in sport as if they are this mythological creature who only serve the purpose to allow people to live through their childhood dreams. I've idolized sports figure, sure. Three of them in totality: Michael Jordan, Kevin Garnett, and Tony Dungy. That's it. Those all came when I was 8-12 years old, you know, a kid. Athletics are designed to entertain. Athletes do not serve any other purpose once they step off that field or court. I do not get at all this 'drama' surrounding Joe Paterno. If this guy was a cop or dentist or a car dealer nobody would care about him, and this story would be a blip on a local news channel. But because there is something so pure about the sport of football, that real men are created on this battlefield, and football coaches are gods among mere mortals is ridiculous to even fathom. For the past 5-6 years I've been able to make the distinction between the player/coach that is on the field with the player/coach that is off the field. I admire the athletic beauty of sport which was one of the major reasons why I fell in love with sports in the first place: athletic competition. When I see people on my screen doing amazing things in the realm of sport, I admire those actions and the drive and determination and pure athleticism of those actions, say like MJ in The Flu game. But once these people step off that playing surface, they enter into their own reality, the reality created without any care for the reality that we as fans wish is true. I love Michael Jordan the basketball player. I do not want to meet Michael Jordan the person, because I've heard some pretty damaging stories about MJ the person. Same goes for Kevin Garnett. Why is it that in sports, we get so connected to these images that we create of these people who we will never meet in real life, and then feel let down when they don't live up to that image? Funny thing is, I want to be a coach. That isn't a hypocritical statement at all, and if you think it is all I gotta say is stop being dumb. I am not interested in gaining fans, I am interested in teaching people the games that I have grown to love, that being basketball, football, or track. The relationships and bonds that I formed with my coaches in high school are relationships that shaped me as a person, in the exact same mold the relationships that I have been fortunate to make with teachers throughout my life from grade school to college. That's the thing, I was personally affected by someone because I knew them, not because of what I thought I knew through a TV screen or radio speakers.
Going back to this whole Joe Paterno debacle, if this were me or you in this same exact situation, I don't care about anything else besides the welfare of the children involved. Why is it that what is getting lost in all of this is the ACTUAL victims? Does anyone care about these people? Or is it because this dude won a whole bunch of football games he deserves to ride out on some white horse on his own terms? This isn't about Joe Paterno, this isn't about Penn St, this isn't about anything other than the victims of this heinous crime. There's a reason why child rapists get worked ten times over in prison; it is the worst possible thing that can be done on the face of this Earth, point, blank, period. I have no sympathy for anyone involved who knew about what was going down, or even who caught a whiff of what was going down and didn't do anything about it. In this situation, when we are talking about child molestation and child rape, anyone who knew something and then who didn't do everything humanly possible to make sure the person doing the actions is placed in handcuffs on the way to jail deserves to get raked over the coals. Joe Paterno doesn't deserve anything other than living the rest of his life knowing that they were what, something like 8 kids all around the age of ten-years-old that were being molested and raped by a coach on his staff, and he didn't do anything to protect those children and stop what was happening.
Title dictates behavior, and if you want to be a head coach in any setting you gotta be ready to deal with a helluvalot more than showing up 5 minutes before practices and games. How young were we when we started playing ball? 4? 5? How many times did our parents drop us off at a practice throughout our entire lives? It ain't about my kid wants to play baseball or football, here ya go, it's I'm putting my trust into you, as the head coach of this team my kid plays on, to watch after my son, my daughter. There's a lot more responsibilities that come with being a head coach in any form, it just ain't about picking kids to run around on a field for awhile while a ball bounces. These responsibilities seem to only get mentioned whenever people see fit to implement the argument. Why is it that when Pete Carroll or Jim Tressel got busted, for things they knew or didn't know, that the blame game was placed directly on their shoulders? Lack of institutional control. But yet, because it is this guy, Joe Paterno, who seemed to be this pure, golden figure, it's different, because people do not want to have to tear down the image that they have built up over their entire lives because someone who 99% of people haven't met and only know in the context of football coach did something bad. Grow up. Life isn't all about sports. You want to idolize someone idolize your parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. The idols in my life are my parents, grandparents, and all of my aunts and uncles, especially the ones who raised me when shit got bad. I wasn't asking Tony Dungy or Jon Gruden or Phil Jackson to be my idol and raise me cause I thought the dudes coached a sport pretty damn good.
Biggest thing I can say is this: there is nothing larger than life. Sports are not larger than life. Jobs are not larger than life, families, friends, whatever, there is nothing larger than life. Stop making people within sports larger than life personas. There are plenty of arguments that can be made, like Paterno was "just following the law for what he was supposed to do". Some laws in life are just screwed up; there's a reason why O.J. Simpson didn't go to jail for murder. I don't want to make it sound like I am talking directly to Paterno, but you are not above life, Mr. Paterno. Your place, your legacy, your job, those are not larger than life. There are certain situations where I can understand where you don't want to break rank and file, but we are talking about you having the knowledge that one of your assistants is having sex with a ten-year-old boy in a shower at your practice facility and you did not do anything other than follow this "rank and file" order. The ball is going to get rolling. There are already new reports this morning about how this scumbag, and I'm not even going to give him the honor to even refer to him by name, pimped out these kids, these kids who were already at-risk who needed somebody to watch over and take care of them, that this dirtball pimped out kids to rich donors. This isn't about having a moral obligation or a social obligation or whatever, this is about having the obligation to protect these children in any way possible, not just by following "rank and file". Instead, the brand of Penn St football was protected, the brand of Joe Paterno.
Let me ask you this: If you believe Paterno is not in the wrong here, that he followed what he had to do, where is the line drawn then? Where do we draw the line as a society if it isn't at at-risk children getting molested, raped, and pimped out? To quote Bomani Jones, and he was talking about paying college athletes when he said this but it is applicable in this situation, "If you do not agree with me you are wrong".
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
Maxwell
Chapter 1
There once came a time throughout Greece when all the Greek Gods were persecuted for their wrongs against mortal life forms. To save time in the story, generations after generations had passed throughout Greece, and the country fell to the supreme dictator known as Thanos Fotopoulos. Thanos was a direct descendant of Zeus himself, but neither Zeus nor Thanos acknowledge this claim.
Thanos rose to power shortly after the 4th Trojan War in which the city of Troy finally conquered the Greeks and reclaimed their city. It was in this war that Thanos was left to die by his Greek allies. You see, even though Thanos was part Greek God, he didn't exhibit any of the characteristics or powers that a natural Greek God or Goddess would. For this, he was ridiculed by the Gods. Of course, he never noticed it; Thanos loved every second of living amongst the gods.
The one power that Thanos did have was his love for invention. Because he seemingly didn't have any special powers, Thanos spent most of his free time inventing new gadgets that enabled him to simulate his own special powers. While he couldn't conjure up a storm like Poseidon or shoot off lightning bolts like Zeus from his own free will, he had the toys at his disposal that did the same exact thing.
The Greeks ridiculed him for this. They never took him or his inventions seriously. Thanos turned into the god that the other gods turned to whenever something needed to be done. Whenever one god had an errand they had to run that they didn't want to, they turned to Thanos to do this. Thanos never rejected; he felt as though this made him feel like one of the gods and that he was respected for having to do so many of these meaningless tasks.
It wasn't until this 4th Trojan War that Thanos fully realized that he was the whipping-boy of the gods. There came a time on the battlefield when Thanos was severely wounded. Both of his legs were shot off with a cannonball. As he cried out in pain, he noticed both Ares and Aphrodite, who both fell back into favor with the gods after the 2nd Trojan War, pass by his mangled body. He shrieked out to them, “Brother! Sister! Please help me! Take me back to Zeus where I can be mended! Can't you see that your brother is in anguish?”
With this, Ares looked at Aphrodite and merely said, “Leave him to die. A real god would have never succumbed to this fate.”
But, Thanos didn't die. In fact, he was taken into prison by the Trojans. There in prison he sat for close to a year in which he plotted his revenge. First, Thanos was able to gain favor with the Trojans by defecting to their side. Three engineers mechanically grafted new legs for him. He then created a new gadget that made him invisible, allowing him to sneak back to Mount Olympus to retrieve all of the other gadgets he had made over the years. With these gadgets, he was able to create powerful gods out of mortal men. Thanos easily became the Trojan leader and vanquished the gods. His most powerful gadget that he created was one that rendered the gods to that of their mortal counterparts. Once a god was caught in this powerful ray, his powers ceased to function. Thanos easily made the gods surrender.
After the gods surrendered, Thanos stormed Mount Olympus. He destroyed everything that once stood and created his own fortress. One of the features of this fortress was its very own Greek God prison, a prison that rendered the person motionless. It was there he sent all of the gods and goddesses that had turned their back on him. They were cursed to stay in this prison for all eternity, not able to move or speak, only left with their thoughts.
Thanos' second order of business was to condemn anyone who had any ties to the Greek Gods. He pillaged throughout the lands, persecuting anyone who had allegiances with the Gods. His message was clear, “Worship me, or face the same fate as the gods. The only difference is your mortality is certain; you will die at some point. So if you want to live a meaningful existence, you will accept me as your true god.”
Thanos’ reign of terror lasted for about five years until he was satisfied with his position of power. There came a time when he grew tired of ravishing the country side, and he retired back to Mount Olympus to bask in his own glory for destroying the Greek Gods once and for all.
Chapter 2
It was about this same time that a young man was coming of age in Greece. He held the same special quality that Thanos had; he was a direct descendant of Zeus. He was born a few years before the start of the 4th Trojan War, and though he wanted to fight in it, he was too young at the time. This young man was known as Maxwell. He was 19 years of age and had just completed his apprenticeship as a blacksmith. There was something special about Maxwell’s craft of blacksmithing; he had this special silver hammer that he used that gave each of his creations an inordinate amount of power. He had always been able to create the strongest swords that could cut through seemingly any material. He created the sturdiest structures that were used throughout Greece.
Maxwell and his family lived outside of Greece in the forest in a small town. Because of this town’s small size and its hidden location, Thanos quickly dismissed it as any type of threat. Maxwell’s mother worked as a caretaker and Maxwell’s father worked as a carpenter. They really weren’t affected by Thanos’ reign of terror; everyone in the small village of about fifty people lived peacefully before and after Thanos took over.
But something strange happened to Maxwell one night. As he was returning home after a full day’s work, he had a vision. He saw Thanos and he saw the gods captured in his prison. He saw Thanos slaughter off each and every one of the gods with a special sword that Thanos invented that was able to pierce through the god’s invincibility. Maxwell felt weird afterward. He witnessed the killings almost as if he was there personally. It wasn’t like in the dreams he had, it was almost as if he was transported spiritually to act as a spectator. After the vision ended, he walked a few steps as he familiarized himself with his surroundings. After these few steps, he had another vision. It was Zeus, chained by some sort of force field. Lasers bound his arms and feet, and Thanos was maniacally whipping Zeus’ back with this weird whip made up this elastic, laser material. Maxwell then heard Zeus speak directly to him. It wasn’t as if he was dreaming at all now. Maxwell was there, next to Zeus. He could feel Zeus’ pain. He could hear the whip slashing his back. He could smell the burnt flesh that Thanos’ whip pierced. He stared deep into Zeus’ eyes, the most painful eyes Maxwell has ever seen. He heard Zeus call to him, “Help. Help us please.”
With those words Maxwell shook back to reality. He found himself on the floor of the forest, drenched in sweat.
Now, Maxwell knew all about how Thanos bound the Gods. At first, he and his family, as well as the rest of the villagers, were frightened. One night, from their huts they could see Thanos and his massive army fly overhead. The village shut out every light as not to be noticed. They really didn't have to worry anyway, Thanos had already set his sights on the massive city of Greece and the shadow that fell over the tiny village created total blackness. You couldn't see your hand five inches in front of your face.
Since then, the village had lived in relative peace. No one paid much attention to it, and after a few circulations around fancier cities, no one came to know the true origins of Maxwell's work. That was quite fine with Maxwell, he didn't want the fame or notoriety that came with his great creations that he credited to his silver hammer; he was happier than anybody working in the tiny village. So it came with a great mixture of emotions to Maxwell when he had these visions. He stood up, shook himself off and slowly wandered home.
When he got home, his parents felt that something was off. Maxwell just said that he was tired and that he had a longer day than usual. He quickly ate his supper then retired to his bed. Of course, it took him hours to fall asleep. He had no idea what to make of his vision. It felt so real. Then it just disappeared. After what seemed like forever, his exhaustion consumed him and he fell asleep.
During this sleep, Maxwell had yet another vision. He was back in the dungeons underneath Mount Olympus. Zeus was staring dead into his eyes. After Zeus let out another cry for help, he heard Thanos bellow at him, “You!”
Not only did that bellow send shivers down Maxwell's spine, the shivers were strong enough to wake him from his sleep. His ears were still ringing from the chilling yell of Thanos. Now he was more than just scared, he was fearful for his life. Maxwell sat in bed half hoping that another vision came to him, half hoping that he could shrink underneath the covers to his bed and vanish forever. He looked out his window, and he could tell what time it was. Daylight had just broke through the forest trees, and it was just about time for him to greet the day. He got out of bed, put on his work clothes and washed up a bit. He ate his breakfast hastily and hoped to get to his shop in the quickest way possible. He was lucky when he had his first vision, at the time he was walking home most everyone in the village were already home. Maxwell usually works later than the rest of the villagers, especially when he gets swept up in his work. He also had the darkness shield him when he fainted. He didn't want the embarassment of talking to someone on the street and having a vision.
Thankfully, he made it to his shop. He was protected inside his walls, as normally the only person to talk to him throughout the day was the mail carrier, but the mail carrier only came once a week to pick up works that Maxwell had made for those in the city and to bring requests of structures from people in the city for Maxwell to make. This usually came on Friday, but today was Tuesday and Maxwell expected no visitors. He even made sure to lock the shop up entirely just in case.
It took Maxwell a little while but as soon as he picked up his silver hammer and started working he almost forgot about the visions that he had. It wasn't until he stopped for just a moment to wipe some sweat off of his brow that he felt those old feelings suddenly shape up. This vision, like the last few, started right where the last one left off. Thanos' bellow was still reverberating off of the dungeon walls. He barely had enough time to respond when Thanos snapped his whip in his direction. Without thinking, Maxwell thrust his arm up to block the whip. To his surprise, he had his silver hammer in hand, and as he thrust the hammer up to shield himself, the whip met the front end of the hammer.
When the whip and hammer met, it created a huge spark and blinded Maxwell. If that wasn't enough, Maxwell felt the worst pain in his life shoot from his fingertips to his hand and down through his arm, up to this shoulder and into his chest. He withered in pain, falling to the ground and clutched his arm to his chest with his other arm. He lied there in fear, as he knew any moment Thanos' shadow would soon encompass him. He waited for his inevitable death, but it never came. Though still in pain, he looked up, and noticed Thanos in the same pain that he was in. Whatever caused that spark, it must have ailed both of the men equally.
Maxwell turned over onto his knees and tried to push himself up with his uninjured arm. To his surprise, when he stood up he was back in his shop. He tried moving the arm that swung up to meet Thanos' whip. Streaks of pain shot up and down it before he clutched it back to his chest. “This wasn't just a vision,” Maxwell thought to himself, “this is real. This pain is real. Whatever is happening to me is real.” With that, Maxwell grabbed his hammer and his pack and took off for home.
Chapter 3
Woefully for Maxwell, he wasn't the only one who had seen these visions. At this exact moment miles and miles away, Thanos lay on the stone floor of his imperial fortress. With his eyes gleamed in wrath and his face deep red in anger, he hollered loud enough for everyone in the palace to him, spraying saliva and snot all over the floor a few inches in front of him. “Get me my chariot!”
Thanos had no clue where it exactly was he was going to go, but he had the same reaction that Maxwell had had. He first thought it was a play that Zeus was using to try to trick him, but Thanos had no idea what trick Zeus would have even been playing. It wasn't until this last vision that Thanos took action. He fetched some of his inventions and grabbed a few men to create a small army to accompany him on this new journey. Thanos swept through the countryside. At first, he didn't really know what it was he was searching for, but an idea came to him. He knew exactly what this person looked like that he saw in his visions. Just as it was for Maxwell, Thanos' vision came in first-person form. He remembers exactly what the young man looked like that was standing in his prison watching him whip Zeus. He quickly had two of his minions draw up a “Wanted” poster, and he quickly invented a new tool that replicated the poster thousands and thousands of times. He sent out his entire army to different cities throughout the land to post these pictures. “Wherever this kid is, he can't run far,” Thanos thought to himself.
While Maxwell didn't run that far, he did run for a ways before he came to a cliff that overlooked either a lake or an ocean. Maxwell wasn't too sure, but nevertheless he ascended down the cliff into an opening and made shelter in the cave.
What felt like an eternity passed, and Maxwell felt as though he should at least stick his head out into the open and get some fresh air. For whatever reason, Maxwell had always been able to go long periods without food or water. He didn't even feel that hungry or tired now that he thought about it. He slowly crept to the opening of the cave. He got to the last part that the sunlight could touch and carefully stared out into the distance. He could almost taste the salt on his tongue from the sea below. Everything looked peaceful, and so Maxwell walked out into the open light.
Not a split second could pass before he was snatched and was flung up into the sky. He couldn't make anything out, everything was moving so fast, but he could feel something latched onto his shoulders as if they were eagle claws holding him as prey. Just as abruptly as he was taken, the flight stopped. He looked down and could see he was floating above a cloud. He felt the grip relax on his shoulders, and he fearfully tried to grab up not wanting to fall back down to Earth. He wasn't able to get a good enough grasp, and he fell.
He didn't fall too far though, as he bounced right on top of the cloud he was hovering. He looked around for a moment, and then looked up to finally see what it was that had grabbed him. To his surprise, it was a woman. At least that's what Maxwell could make out. His first thoughts were that this person was from another planet. She had on some sort of glasses that reflected out tiny square and triangle shapes that came in all different colors that appeared to be reaching out at Maxwell. Aside from the glasses, she was draped in different cloths that almost did the same thing as the glasses. It was as if she was made of glass or porcelain and these colors bounced off of her. She had long, flowing blond hair and for a moment it was if she and Maxwell had made eye contact. Suddenly, something startled her, and her head perked up violently first left, then right, and she grabbed Maxwell again and off they went just as they had came.
They stopped again a few moments later. This time they were sitting in a boat on a river. Tall trees shielded them from above, and Maxwell couldn't look in any direction without getting lost in the trees. He looked out to his left and his right, and all he could see was the forest. He looked back behind him and in front of him, but the river curved around a bend behind him, and the trees shadowed whatever lay ahead.
“Hello? Excuse me could you please answer?” the ladies voice brought Maxwell back to where he was.
“Oh, sorry about that,” Maxwell sheepishly replied.
“Anyway, like I was saying, my name is Lucy. Don't ask about how I found you, we don't have enough time for that. What's important is that you've got some sort of mark on you that Thanos can track. I'm not sure what it is, probably one of his inventions, but whatever it is he can track you and find you within minutes. That's why we've got to be moving so swiftly. It's actually feeling as though we should get going again.”
And with that, Lucy grabbed Maxwell by the shoulders yet again and flew away to another place. This time they were in a field with daisies and flowers all around them. Before Maxwell had a chance to catch his breath, Lucy continued on with her story.
“See, after Thanos spent fruitless hours searching for you throughout Greece and Troy and whatever cities he could think of, he just decided to create a device to find you. At first, it didn't work at all. That's because Thanos only thinks big. He's too preoccupied with taking control of these big cities. That's why he didn't notice your tiny village outside of Greece just like he didn't notice any other small village. He doesn't care about these villages because he only thinks big. He wants to be known in these famous, huge cities. He wants to rule these cities.”
And with that, Lucy grabbed him again and they flew away to another place. They landed on a bridge this time in a forest similar to that of when they landed in the boat. Horses were down by the shores drinking water and chewing on hay. Lucy didn't waste a second continuing on with her story.
“So after he interrogated what seemed like everybody in any big city, he finally caught a break. Well, I guess you could say that. Anyway he found your mailman that came to your shop to deliver your mail and collect the finished projects you had completed. Well, it didn't take Thanos long before he found out about your village. It's not as if he killed or destroyed anything, but your shops gone.”
And with that last word, Lucy grabbed Maxwell by the collar and off they went. They landed in a place that seemed accidental. They were sitting in what looked like a train station, and it's as if they came through a window. As soon as they landed, three members of Thanos' army spotted them and yelled in their direction.
“Oh no! Here, hurry! Take these and put them on. When you do think of any place you want to go to and you'll be taken there!” Lucy shrieked out at Maxwell and thrust her glasses in his direction. As soon as she took the glasses off, what seemed like sunlight shot out of her eyes filling the entire station. The light blinded everyone and Maxwell tried to shield his eyes with his forearm.
“Hurry! Go! Put them on and go!” Lucy yelled at him.
Before Maxwell could even take his hands off of the glasses as he placed them on his face, he was whisked away. It wasn't really flying, he was stationary, his body was upright and he just kind of flew backward threw the air until he came upon the first place that came to his mind when he put the glasses on. He took the glasses off, let his eyes adjust to the dimness around him and then looked around. He found his pack and his hammer right where he had left it, sitting next to the small fire he had made. He was back in the cave that he spent what seemed to be months. He took a minute to collect himself and to think about all that Lucy had told him. That minute didn't last as long as Maxwell had hoped, for as soon as he sat down on the floor of the cave, he heard voices coming from above.
“Well, I'm not sure what's going on, but according to this map he should be here.”
“We better find him soon. Lord Thanos is going to be here any minute and we're either going to be heroes or the unfortunate two who arrived at the scene first with nothing to show.”
Chapter 4
Maxwell was frozen stiff, not wanting to alert the two soldiers who were standing at the top of cliff. Maxwell was a mere few feet away underneath the cliff, and his little cave was moments away from being discovered. Finally, he found the courage to do something. He took off for his hammer and his sack and he thrust the glasses onto his face. The next thing he knew, he was back in the little boat that he had come to what seemed like hours before. He couldn't think, couldn't move, hardly could even breathe. He did know one thing: he couldn't spend the rest of his life having to think of a new place to run to every other minute.
Even though that is what Maxwell did for the next half hour or so, popping up in about twenty different places, an idea finally came to him. He transported himself one final time to the first place Lucy had taken him to, on top of a cloud. He felt that he had enough time hiding up here to phrase his next destination perfectly before Thanos would reach him. He took off the glasses and began to think.
Finally, after about five minutes, he placed the glasses back on his face. To make sure he got the words right, he said them out loud just as how he had practiced over and over again in his head: “Take me to the one place in this world where Thanos would never find me,”
As soon as the last word escaped his mouth, he was flung again into the air. He traveled for longer than any of the previous times combined. As opposed to the other times, he didn't flow in a straight line either. He would move straight forward for a few moments, shoot left for a while, fly straight again, shoot right, and so on. After wondering if he would ever stop, his flight started to slow. This was odd, he thought. Besides usually flying in a straight line, he normally went the same exact speed until he reached his destination. This time, he floated down over a tiny village much like his own. This village wasn't shrouded with trees though; he could make out tiny structures that soon became tiny buildings. As he got closer and closer he could even make out tiny people. He expected to go right into the middle of the village, but his flight took him past that village and to the outskirts where a tiny wooden house stood.
He fluttered right down on the front doorstep of the house. He wasn't really sure what else to do. He looked around to take in his new surroundings, and, without even thinking about it, finally just knocked on the front door.
An older woman answered. She wore at least two layers of loose fitting clothing looking as though she was trying to stay warm. A wool shawl draped over her head and around her shoulders, hanging to her midsection. A pair of reading glasses hung around her neck down to her breast. She stood in the doorway, looking slightly confused until as if a light bulb went off in her head. A thin smile spread across her face and she lovingly said, “Maxwell! Welcome home!”
Before Maxwell could show any sense of surprise or bewilderment, the lady reached out for him with one arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. She pulled him into the house and took him over to a chair and motioned for him to sit down.
“Get yourself comfortable while I go put on some tea. I'm sure you're here for one reason only and it's going to take a while to explain it all to you,” the lady said as she limped off into the kitchen.
“Um, do you, uh, need any help with anything?” Maxwell replied after her.
“Now you don't worry about me. These old bones can handle walking into the kitchen and making a pot of tea. I've done it twice today and it's not going to hurt to do it one more time.”
Maxwell sank back into his chair that was cushioned from head to foot. He nervously sat and waited as the woman banged around in the kitchen. She came back out to the living room after she put the tea on the stove. She fell back into her chair, and stared over at Maxwell. A few moments passed before a smile fell over her face and she placed a hand over her mouth and looked down embarrassed.
“I'm sorry if I'm acting a little weird here, it's just been so long since I've seen you. You must be what, 19, 20 years now?”
“Yes, er, I'm 19 years old.”
“Yeah, I figured that. Anyway, I knew this day would finally come. Especially after that last war and everything that has happened since then. Anyway, where do you want me to start?”
“Well, I guess at the beginning?”
“Alrighty. Well, oh, hold on really fast the tea's done.”
The woman pushed herself up off of her chair and waddled back into the kitchen. A few minutes passed and she returned with a tray holding a large teapot with two glasses, two spoons and a small bowl of sugar placed around it. The woman set it down on a coffee table and poured her and Maxwell a glass. She asked him if he wanted any sugar, scooped two spoonfuls in and handed him his glass.
“Alright. Well, I guess there really isn't any stalling left that can be done. Maxwell,” and with that last word, she paused for a moment, let out a sigh and drew a large breath. “Maxwell, I'm your grandmother.”
Maxwell sat in silence. He wasn't really stunned or surprised. In fact, he didn't really show any emotion whatsoever. Ever since he had his first vision nothing really surprised him anymore.
“Sorry, please go on,” Maxwell said as the woman waited for a response. He looked in intently this time and waited patiently for her next words. He couldn't really think of anything. He had known his grandparents from his mother's side of the family, but all he could remember about his father's side was that they had died years ago when he was young.
“Well, you see, here's where you basically half to forget everything that you have come to know as true in your life. I'm your grandmother. So now you’re probably thinking who it was that I gave birth to, your mother or your father. Truth is I didn't birth either of them. Who I did birth was your real mother. See, you are adopted, and your parents are not your real parents. Your real father is Telephos, son of Heracles. Your mother is my daughter, Penny. And you should probably know this before I get any deeper into the story, but you have a brother as well. His name is Thanos.”
Chapter 5
Maxwell’s grip on his teacup loosened and it fell out of his hand, falling to the carpet and spilling everywhere. He had thought he was ready for any type of new excitement and surprises, but this capped everything. It felt as though someone had taken his silver hammer and rammed it into his stomach. He felt sick, nauseated, distressed and felt as though he was about to cry. Underneath all of that, the previous words the woman had told him really started to sink in. He really couldn’t believe it, but he had no other choice. Maxwell couldn’t reach for the words to even begin an argument. He always felt out of place in his family; his father stood no higher than five feet and five inches off the ground while wearing his work boots and his mother barely made it to five feet. Maxwell stood six feet and three inches, weighing well over 220 pounds. He credited this to his blacksmithing. He thought all those years working in such a grueling position added to his body mass. I mean, he at least looked the part of a Greek god. But how could it be so?
Before Maxwell got lost in too much thought, he was brought back down to Earth once again by the woman’s voice .She had just finished cleaning up Maxwell’s accident and he had just realized he had been frozen like a statue. He didn’t even remember the woman giving him a napkin to clean himself off with.
“I might as well continue this tale, and I know it’s a lot to take it but it must be told. Anyway, a long time ago, Telephos had to go on a journey. His son, I guess you could say your half-brother, was killed in a battle halfway across the ocean. Telephos wanted revenge, and that’s another story within itself. Anyway, on his journey, Telephos came upon this area. Back then, there were huge trolls that lived in the hills that can be seen from my corner window. Thrice a year, the trolls wandered down from the hills to feast. Every time the trolls came down, we either had to hide or leave the area as not to be eaten. This went on for about four years; nobody in the village is really sure why the trolls came to these parts, some think it was because of a war that they lost against another group of giants and they were forced to relocate. This village used to be much bigger, but the first time the trolls came they destroyed most of it. We really didn’t have anywhere else to go, and so we just rebuilt, hoping that it was just a onetime occurrence. Of course it wasn’t, but at least this time we had built a bunker underneath the village to hide us from their attack.”
She paused for a moment to take a sip from her tea before continuing. “Like I said, this went on for about four years; I can remember eleven total times the trolls came down. It was then that Telephos had wandered across our village. He stopped for the night and as luck would have it, as we had predicted from the previous times the trolls had come; they were due to attack in less than two weeks. We told Telephos about our burden, and he agreed to slay the trolls for us. He stayed in the village for about three days before he set off into the hills to face these demons with this great hammer that he possessed. A day passed. Then the days turned into a week, and the weeks turned into a month. Telephos had never returned, but neither did the Trolls. It wasn’t until my daughter, Penelope, went out into the forest one day to pick some berries, apples and things like that. On her own journey, she came across this figure lying on the ground. She thought it might have been some sort of dead animal, but as she crept closer and closer, she realized it was a man. Well, it wasn’t just any man, mind you. It was the god Telephos. He was wounded pretty badly and it’s amazing that he had survived for so long. Of course, being the son of Heracles and part mortal himself, Telephos doesn’t exhibit all of the characteristics of a true god, much like yourself and your brother.”
The woman paused again this time, stood up and went into the kitchen. Maxwell let everything wash over him, and let it sink in as slowly as possible. The woman soon returned with another pot of tea. She sat in the kitchen the entire time the tea was brewing. She brought the tea out in the same fashion as last time, handing Maxwell his cup before she sat down.
“This time, try not to spill it.” She mockingly said. “Anyway, she brought him here at once to mend. Telephos stayed here for about two months before he was feeling like his old self again. As fate would have it, the two slowly fell in love with each other. Not to get into too specific of details, but my daughter became pregnant. Neither realized it, but Telephos soon had to leave. He had to continue on his journey. After his journey, he almost completely forgot about our tiny village and what he had done and what had happened. Let’s just say it wasn’t the only trouble he faced on his way. According to legend, after he had enacted his revenge for his son’s death, the sun-god Helios helped Telephos back home. He greatly admired Telephos after witnessing most of his journey from his chariot in the sky. He allowed Telephos to use his chariot and gave him a ride back to his home, effectively keeping the sun in the sky for some very awkward hours.”
The woman took some time to pour herself another cup of tea. She looked out of the window for a moment as darkness had slowly crept on the village.
“I better hurry with this or it’s going to be way past my bedtime when I finally get to sleep. Though Telephos didn’t come back through this town, my daughter was still very much pregnant. Well, one night Telephos had a dream the night of his son’s birth. In this dream he basically saw the birth of his son. When he told us later about his dream, it was remarkable. It was almost if he was actually here the entire time because all of the details were just so true. Immediately he set off to come back to this village. Another problem persisted as it always does in these stories, but Telephos couldn’t exactly remember where this village was. He finally got here about two years later. He had found these glasses that had some sort of magical power. They would take you anywhere you wanted to go. Alas, he returned to the village, and lived with us for a few months.”
“As luck would have it, my daughter was pregnant again. Sadly, she died giving birth to that second child. Not to get too far into those details, because I’m not sure I could handle reliving that story again, Telephos had agreed to take one of the sons with him to Mount Olympus. He felt that he would only be allowed to take one back, and that he would have a very hard time explaining that story in itself. So I was left with you. Now, don’t make me out for a bad person, but I couldn’t handle it. All I had in this world was my daughter after my husband had died in the first invasion of the trolls. It was bad enough that I technically wasn’t even married yet. My wedding night was set for the exact night the trolls first stormed into our village and destroyed everything. I was pregnant at the time, and I was in my wedding dress waiting and waiting, all alone.”
The woman’s eyes soon became glassy and tears formed in the linings of her eyes. She blinked a few times to clear them out with a few drops falling down her cheeks and cleared her throat before continuing.
“So, I took you in, but after a few months I couldn’t handle it anymore. I packaged you up in a box and basically shipped you off for whomever to find you. I know, it sounds terrible, and I’ve had to live with that for the past 19 years. Anyway, back to the story as you know what happened to you. Your father, Telephos, died on his trip back to Mount Olympus. I’m not really sure how, but I know that he gave your brother, who had to have been six or so at the time, to Zeus and asked him to take care of the boy. He didn’t tell Zeus anything about his origins or where he had found him; all he told Zeus on his death bed was that your brother was part god. So Zeus took the child in, and although there was nothing to suggest the kid was a god, he had his special ability of mimicry. He was able to create this tools that mimicked the other god’s powers. He soon learned how to invent his own special powers, as we all know, and that is how he was able to overthrow the gods at about the same age you are yourself. Kind of strange how both of your paths is similar; when Thanos was your age his path took him to overthrow the gods and now your path at this age is leading you to rescue the gods.”
Finally, Maxwell understood. He knew what it was he had to do. He understood the visions. Zeus had instructed him to free the gods from their spell.
Before he could continue on with his thought, the poor woman broke out into tears. Sobbingly she stammered out, “The only bad thing is, you were never supposed to even make it this far. See, Zeus knew well about you; he wouldn’t have been Zeus if he didn’t know. He knew where Thanos came from, he knew well about you. And he knew all about your twin sister. Yes, that woman who gave you those glasses and who rescued you from those caves was your twin sister, Lucille. I had to take care of the both of you, and when my feet crumbled underneath me and I couldn’t bear it anymore, I sent you in one direction and her in the other. As if Zeus knew what was coming, he cast out a protective shield over this tiny village. You don’t have to worry about Thanos finding you here, because that spell Zeus cast out has made it impossible for him to find this place. Zeus tried his best to erase Thanos’ memory of his past, and he was able to erase this place, our village. But he wasn’t able to erase his memories completely. Thanos has had visions of me helping you, and he has been trying his best to create an invention to find this place. Thankfully for our village, he couldn’t. So he did the next best thing: he cast a spell over me to kill you.”
Maxwell jumped up, spilling his tea all over the floor yet again. He grabbed for his silver hammer and he held it on in front of him between him and the woman.
“Whatever it is you are going to attempt, save it. You are a frail old woman, and I do not wish to fight you. If your stories are true, then you must be my grandmother, and I am in no way going to harm my family.”
“Don’t worry Maxwell; you won’t have to worry about anything. See, I knew I could never fight you either. My best attempt at killing you was to poison this tea. Luckily, you didn’t drink any of it; you spilled it all on the floor. You don’t have to worry about dying here.”
Maxwell let out a sigh of relief, as he knew he didn’t drink any of the two cups presented to him. He let his guard down and lowered his weapon. Just then he realized, the poor woman had been slowly drinking the tea the entire time!
“Wait, but, you’ve been drinking the tea throughout your story! Do you mean to tell me you have poisoned yourself?” Maxwell asked.
“Yes, Maxwell. I’ve had to bear so many weights in this life. I had to suffer through the death of my husband on our wedding night. I had to suffer through the death of my daughter in childbirth. I had to suffer through sending you and your sister off in two different directions. I had to suffer through all these visions that I’ve been having myself recently, telling me of your journey, your brother’s journey and your sister’s journey. I knew about everything before you entered through that door. I even knew you would land on that doorstep. It took me a minute to recognize you, but you caught me in the middle of a nap. Anyway, to end this misery and not to have to bear the outcomes, I felt as though I should end it myself right here. I’m not sure how much longer I got, but if you please, let me just rest here peacefully. I’m really starting to run out of the strength to continue on with this story. You basically know everything; your journey is to free the gods. Just remember, you…”
The woman started to tale off. Maxwell knew her end was near; he could tell the poison had started to consume her. He knelt beside her, grabbing her hands in his. He tried to plead with her to finish her last sentence, but she couldn’t muster any words. The only thing that could escape her mouth was faint bursts of breaths as she attempted to speak. With one last loving look into Maxwell’s eyes and a weak smile that formed across her face, the woman shut her eyes for good and her body sunk deep into the chair she was resting on.
Tears came to Maxwell’s eyes. He spent the rest of the night mourning the loss of his grandmother, his true grandmother who he had only known for a few hours. He quickly forgave her of any wrongs she may have done. He fully realized the burdens she had to bear throughout her life. The next morning he awoke early and went outside of the small, wooden house and dug her final resting place. Next, he set off to carving a tombstone for her. He searched throughout the house, but all he could find that he could attach to her for a name was Eleanor. He put his silver hammer to work and put all of the sweat and tears he could muster into her tombstone. It really was an incredible sight. Out of normal rocks and stones he found in the forest, he churned out a marvelous work of art. His silver hammer turned the regular stone into beautiful deep purple, blue and grey marble that read ELEANOR across the top. He placed the woman’s body in a makeshift casket that he created from the tree branches and firewood he could find around the house and set the casket down into the grave he had dug. After he buried the casket, he stood for a minute over the grave.
“Such a sad day. This poor, lonely woman, all she has had to endure, and for what? For nobody to come to her funeral?”
With that, he walked away from the grave, wiping the dirt from his hands.
Chapter 6
A few days had passed since Eleanor’s death. Thanos finally ended his search for Maxwell after his specially created map could no longer track him. He tried a few different things in the meantime, waiting for Maxwell in his old village, taking his parents hostage. When Maxwell never returned, Thanos grew irritated and restless. He returned to Mount Olympus to plot his next actions. The only image that kept coming back into his mind was that of him whipping Zeus as Maxwell watched. He could picture the images right in front of his face as he toiled away on his high throne. Thanos replayed the scene in his head. He could feel the glee that he had had while whipping Zeus with his laser-like whip. He could feel the same rage wash over him right in his chair when he saw Maxwell with hammer in tow. After taking a few days himself to relax, he decided to act on his visions.
“This was obviously a vision of the future, and so that is why my efforts were fruitless. This scene will have to play itself out. That is the way it was intended,” Thanos thought to himself. Thus, he grabbed a few supplies and headed down to the dungeons.
The image of the gods frozen in time would have made for a mightier masterpiece than anyone could have penned or sculpted. Thanos, cruel as he was, positioned each god into a different pose that reflected the history of each god. Zeus was positioned as the mighty god that he was, standing tall above others with a shield in one arm and a lightning bolt in the other. Positioned behind Zeus was Hera, beautiful as she was, one arm resting on Zeus’ back with the other arm clutching the arm Zeus held the lightning bolt with at the biceps, seemingly holding him back. In this same fashion, gods and goddesses were all positioned. Poseidon was frozen with his arms outstretched, powerful trident in one hand and the other hand palm up facing the skies. They were at an angle that looked as if he was awakening the seas, raising a ferocious storm. Ares was shown as the fierce war-god that he was. Helios was in his chariot with horses made of fire carrying him. Aphrodite was simply stunning. As luscious as she was in life, she was twice that in her frozen state, suggestively holding pieces of cloth around her top and midsection that looked to be sliding off her gorgeous body.
Thanos stared at his masterpiece. He thought about having an artist or architect come in and create this same image, but it wouldn’t be the same. Nothing could capture the lifelike, vivid validity of the scene. No artist could capture that same pain and anguish that each god expressed in their eyes underneath the way Thanos had specifically contorted each body part to signify each god’s raw, natural presence.
“This Maxwell will receive twice the punishment that I inflict on each god combined for ruining my craftsmanship,” Thanos said out loud before he went to each god individually and bound their hands and feet in a force field like beam. He went to the front of the dungeon and pressed a button on the wall, and each god came to life. Though they could move their extremities and were alive again, they couldn’t move anywhere. The force field Thanos equipped froze them in place.
“You all know why you’re here. You all probably know what’s going to happen. I’m not going to waste my breath on telling you the entire story. No, I’m just going to get started and let history take its course as it should.”
With a quick flick of his wrist, Thanos’ whip unraveled out. He started with those who he deemed more insignificant, working his way up to the more important ones until he got to Zeus. He forced the other gods to watch by freezing their eyelids and heads in place as he lashed out his vengeance. If this was how he and Maxwell were supposed to meet, this is what he must do.
Meanwhile, Maxwell was still contemplating his course of action. One afternoon as he was cutting firewood for the night, his body became stiff. The axe fell from his hand, and his legs began to feel like jelly. His vision turned dark, and the old feelings of being taken away to another place began to return. This wasn’t quite like the visions he had earlier, it didn’t feel quite like he was there; more like an out-of-body experience. He witness Thanos distributing lash after lash to the different gods. He couldn’t hear the whip slicing through the gods’ flesh this time, or hear the screams. After witnessing Thanos whip about four gods and two goddesses, his vision turned black and he returned to his body. He woke from his trance, standing upright as opposed to on the ground again. He paused, gathered the wood he had cut and went inside.
He paced around the living room for quite some time, stopping every now and then to put more wood into the fire he had made. He knew what he had to do. The first vision he had replayed in his mind in the same fashion that it had for Thanos. He saw himself; he saw all that he had with him. There was no great army he was going to round up to fight by his side. All he had in the vision was his silver hammer. He grasped the top of the hammer in his left hand. So smooth, so pure. Maxwell looked closer, realizing for the first time that the name given to his hammer was more than just a name; the top of the hammer was made of solid silver. He figured that it was something his father Telephos had left for him, something that his grandmother had included when she shipped him off down the river. He looked carefully at it, examining its features and textures. “This was the same hammer my father used to slay the trolls. The same hammer that I’ve taken for granted all these years. I’ve never really respected this as much as I should have, or realized its true potential. All these years of my blacksmithing, including whatever my father had done with it, and it is still in perfect condition,” Maxwell thought out loud before his voice tailed off.
It was right then that he noticed a curious indentation in the hammer. Towards the top of the head and curving up to the top, there was a strange mark. “…almost as if it was slashed by a whip…” Maxwell continued. Just as plain as day, the same spot where Thanos’ whip had struck the hammer, a mark etched into the silver.
Maxwell studied it, running his forefinger and thumb over it countless times. He could almost feel the pain that that mark had inflicted within him. His eyes could remember the great spark that blinded the entire room. Without hesitating any longer, Maxwell slung his hammer around his right shoulder and reached for his pack. He fished around before ultimately pulling out the weird glasses that his sister had given him. Studying them for a moment, he thought that they must have been given to Lucy by their father as well, not only to shield her eyes from the rest of the world, but to transport her to wherever she wanted to go. He held the frames in each hand by each hinge, looking down into the mysterious colors the glasses reflected back. It was almost like staring deep down into a multi-colored, three dimensional quicksand that had just consumed something. He took a great breath, closed his eyes, and went to put the glasses over his eyes.
Chapter 7
Right before the glasses could come into contact with Maxwell’s face, a flash of light blinded him and something grabbed him from behind. He felt a strong grip on his right shoulder pulling him down and another arm reach around his left shoulder snatching away the glasses. Maxwell fought back, thrusting his body backwards into the person, knocking it down. He quickly turned around, grabbed his hammer and went to face the intruder. Before he could do anything, the massive light vanished and the fire was the only thing left to illuminate the room. He looked down and recognized the figure right away. It was Lucy! She scrambled to put the glasses back on.
“Thanks for these. You have no idea how hard it is to get around when every time you open your eyes you emit a light as bright as the sun,” Lucy said as she gathered herself from off the floor. “That was a little bit of a mistake on my part, but I got scared. I didn’t know of any other place I could think of to go in safety and so I gave you the glasses hoping you would go somewhere safe. Thankfully you did. Don’t worry about me, none of Thanos’ men had any idea of what happened, nor could they identify me. It took me so long to get back here; you have no idea how hard it was to travel without these things,” she said as she tapped the glasses on the side. “You probably don’t have to fill me in on anything, I knew of the curse Grandma Eleanor was under. I fully prepared myself for coming back here knowing she was gone.”
Even though Maxwell couldn’t see it, tears formed in Lucy’s eyes. Maxwell told her how he had buried her and about the tombstone he had carved. The two siblings went out back and stood over their grandmother’s grave. After a few moments, Maxwell reached out to his sister, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders. It was at this moment the two felt truly connected as brother and sister. Lucy turned into Maxwell and he embraced her as silent tears fell underneath her glasses.
The two returned inside the house. They both sat themselves down, Maxwell taking the chair he had previously sat in and Lucy taking the chair her grandmother had sat in. Though both wanted to reminisce about their lives, their history, where they had come from to that first meeting outside of the cave, they knew there were more important issues at hand. Maxwell discussed all that Eleanor had told him, up to her final breaths, and of how he has interpreted his visions. Maxwell wanted to use the glasses to take him to Mount Olympus to free the gods. He knew he foresaw the future, and all he had to take with him was his silver hammer. Though Lucy wanted to accompany him, she knew that she would be of no help without her glasses. Besides, if Maxwell failed, Lucy would be the only hope left for the gods.
With one last, long hug, Lucy gave possession of the glasses to Maxwell. He held them in his hands again, took a last look at Lucy. Even though her eyes were shut tight to shield the light, Maxwell could see a wetness start to spread under her eyes. Before he had any second thoughts, he quickly placed the glasses over his eyes and in his mind thought of the one place that he didn’t want to go to.
And just like that, Maxwell was gone. Lucy sat alone in the dark, her eyes closed to block out the power light that shone through her eyes. It didn't bother her any, but she knew with making eye contact for a split-second with someone she could render them blind. She felt her way around the house, reaching for her grandmother's chair. She sat down, crossed her legs and tried her best to start patiently waiting. She tried to envision Maxwell's journey. She thought about her grandmother, what she had told her brother. Just then she realized something, she forgot something vital.
“Grandmother's last words... I didn't tell Maxwell what they meant!” Lucy exclaimed in shock.
All those years ago when Telephos took Thanos with him to Mount Olympus, he was paranoid of one thing: that one day, somehow, somewhere, his children would meet in the battlefield. In order to prevent them harming each other, he sought out the powerful Telchines. The Telchines were magical and had supreme wizardry powers. Years ago, it was believed that Zeus or Poseidon had killed them because they started to abuse these powers. Not all of them had died though, and a few were scattered around the country. Telephos knew of one that he had run into years before on his original journey that led him to Penelope. Telephos had previously asked the wizard to cast a protective shield over him and in return, Telephos would go to the underworld and bring back the rest of the Telchines. Of course, after Telephos completed his journey, Helios took him back to Mount Olympus in his chariot, and Telephos was never able to complete the task he had agreed to for the Telchine wizard.
So upon returning to the Telchine, Telephos apologized, and said that at that very instant, if the wizard agreed to cast one more spell for him, Telephos would go down to the underworld to free the rest of the wizards. The wizard agree, but had one stipulation. Afterward, the wizard would remove the protective shield from Telephos' body, and all damage that he had received on the previous journey to seek revenge for his son would be inflicted back onto him. Even though he was certain it would lead to his death, Telephos agreed. What was more important to him was that his children weren't able to harm one another. Soon after completing the task and freeing the Telchine from Hades' grip, the wizard cast the spell, protecting his children from one another. The wizard also removed the previous spell, and in doing so, a sudden rush fell over Telephos. It didn't feel like a normal pain, but whatever it was went through every bone in his body, making him feel very weak and frail. He fell to his knees. Lashes suddenly appeared all over his body, as if an invisible force was beating down on him. Blood spurt from his mouth. A throbbing pain spread across his stomach. A sharp pain grew in his sternum, spreading out across his chest. He felt that at any second, he was going to implode.
Helios was watching over again, and, just like the last time, came to Telephos' rescue. Whatever it was, the two had some sort of bond, and he sacrificed his duties in the sky to take Telephos and the young boy back to Mount Olympus. He dropped them off at the foot of Zeus' throne, and that is wear Telephos asked with his last breaths if Zeus would take the boy in.
Chapter 8
If the last flight to find the tiny village where his grandmother lived felt like an eternity, this flight was that plus some. It felt like the glasses had a mind and conscience of their own, and subconsciously they didn't want anything to do with Mount Olympus. Nevertheless, they took Maxwell where he wanted to go. He found himself in a forest that surrounded Thanos' fortress. He half expected guards to be waiting for him as they were at the train station, but Thanos had given up on his magic map and couldn't see the tiny dot that had just appeared right outside his castle walls.
Maxwell looked around, trying to find some sort of opening. With the oncoming threat, Thanos stepped up his protection. Maxwell tried using the glasses to get him over the gate, but he bounced right off the force-field Thanos had inserted that created a bubble over his fortress. Maxwell was well past frustration. He grabbed his hammer, and without thinking twice took his frustration out on the wall, rearing back with one massive swing. To his surprise, the mighty wall cracked! Feeling invigorated, Maxwell swung again, and again, and again. Blow after blow, Maxwell fought his way through the wall. He could start to see through the wall to the other side. He made just a big enough hole that he could fit his body through. He still had his doubts about the force-field. Was he going to bounce off again? Or pass right through? He could see the tint of the protective shield right on the other side of the wall. With a careful hand, he stuck his arm out. With his fingertips centimeters away, he tried sliding his hand through. To his surprise, it went through; nothing happened. Thanos had not built this structure to repel living things, he had created it with the intention to repel any type of magic.
Maxwell was through the walls. Silently, he slid up to the stone structure that Thanos had created for himself. He hid himself in some massive bushes outside of a smaller side gate that appeared to be open. He waited, wondering if this was some trap Thanos had tried to spring. After a few moments, Maxwell heard something. It sounded like boots beating down on the concrete. He could hear voices off in the distance. Maxwell strained his ears and tried to listen in.
“Why can't Lord Thanos just create the foods and the banners and all of the other decorations himself? This seems so meaningless having to continuously wander in and out to bring in all of these supplies for this feast he plans to throw,” One voice said, growing stronger and stronger with each word.
“Well, he said it himself nothing magical can happen under this shield thing. It's not so bad, really. As soon as Lord Thanos destroys that one kid he'll release this shield and have one of those wizards create the rest. This is going to be the biggest festival ever. If the food and all that other stuff isn't enough, just think of all those gods placed around as our decorations!” The other man replied as they reached the entrance of the gate. Maxwell waited a few seconds after they had passed, and slipped in as silently as he could. It was pitch black. No matter how long he waited, his eyes didn't adjust to his surroundings at all. He was afraid to move, not knowing where it was he was going or what lie ahead. He heard the voices returning, and froze in shock.
“Yep, it wasn't too bad. I've seen better plays of course but at least this one was unique. It wasn't really the same old story just told in a different way. You know, even though the place can't have any magic around, it would have been nice if Lord Thanos provided some light to these corridors. When it turns to night, you can't see anything in this castle.”
Maxwell waited, and heard the two men pass. He let out a sigh of relief, and plotted his next move. For whatever reason, he was fingering the glasses that were in his pocket. Without having a better idea, he put them on. He could see again! The glasses might have their own magical qualities of transportation, but whatever it was that illuminated the corridor wasn't much of magic. The only thing was that, just like how they were when he first saw them, the colorful shapes of rectangles, triangles and squares danced around, slowly twirling in different directions. He could see, but everything in front of him seemed to rotate and spin.
“This must be how Lucy always sees,” Maxwell thought before he crept along the hallway. He froze for a moment as he heard the two men returning. He placed his body flat against the wall, and watched as they passed by him, carrying different ribbons and cloths, arguing about the causes of the 2nd Trojan War. After they passed, he continued. He walked along so many different hallways, into so many different rooms, avoiding the few candles that were carelessly put up in places that Thanos hardly ever went, until he heard something. It sounded grotesque, like a slab of meat slapping the concrete as its dropped to the floor of a butcher's shop. Then he heard the wails. If that wasn't enough, the pleads followed.
Hatred rushed over him. Even though this was his brother, what he was doing was inhumane, criminal and vicious. No man should endure this type of punishment onto another. Maxwell followed the sound of the screams, finding an opening that led down a flight of stairs. If Thanos' reign and power had taught him one thing, it was carelessness. Maxwell descended the stairway and came to the opening of the dungeons.
He had seen this before, so many times played out in his head. He took the glasses off and placed them in his pack. He slung his hammer back around his head and held it in one hand. Almost as if he was having another out-of-body experience, he felt his legs start to move. He could see himself doing these things, but as fearful as he was he couldn't stop himself. He walked out into the open, and stood in the same place he had been before. He knew what was coming, and he awaited the inevitable.
If it hadn't already happened before, Thanos had gone crazy. With the other gods, he handed out each lashing and moved on. But when he got to Zeus, the all-powerful Zeus, each whip invigorated him. Each slash delivered fed into Thanos. This was a man possessed. Harder and harder, faster and faster Thanos swung. Who knows how long this had been going on. It's uncertain if Zeus could even feel anything anymore, his body so numb from the countless whips he had endured.
Just then, Zeus looked up. The pain in his eyes could have brought any man to their knees. He looked right at Maxwell, and let out, almost a whisper, the words “help, help us, please”. Maxwell got lost in those words. He almost forgot what was coming next, the roar that could be heard for miles upon miles.
“YOU!”
Before Maxwell could react, Thanos swung his whip at him. No matter how many times he had envisioned this and replayed it in his head, Thanos' anger consumed him and he lashed out. Maxwell swung his hammer up, and the whip met the hammer. Pain shot through Maxwell's body again, worse than how he had felt it in the vision. He withered in pain on the floor and again waited for Thanos' shadow to consume his body. Of course, it didn't.
He rolled over and pushed himself up to his knees, clutching one arm to his chest. He reached over and picked up his hammer and stood upright. The pain that went through Maxwell's body had to have been tenfold for Thanos. He was madly shrieking out in pain, rolling left and right, clutching his body. With all the strength and courage he had left, Maxwell limped towards Thanos. Through the pain, he raised his mighty silver hammer up above his head, and looked to give Thanos one last fateful blow.
Chapter 9
“NOOOOOOO!!!!!” came a roar much louder than Thanos' had been. Maxwell turned in shock towards the direction of the shout, and saw it was Zeus!
“You mustn't!” Zeus cried.
Before Maxwell could respond, his legs swung out from underneath him. Thanos had tripped him and was now standing over Maxwell with a foot pressed against his neck. With a flick of his wrist, his whip uncoiled, sparking as it hit the stone floor. Thanos looked deep into Maxwell's eyes. Maxwell could feel the seething glare burn through him. Zeus let out another cry, pleading this time for Thanos to stop.
“You don't understand! Listen to me, you cannot defeat him!”
Thanos coldly turned towards Zeus without letting up on the grip he had on Maxwell's throat. Without saying anything, he reared his arm back, and delivered the sharpest blow of all, the whip snapping across Zeus' mouth. The mighty god roared in pain, and couldn't speak at all. Thanos turned back down to Maxwell, pressing harder into his neck.
“I have waited for this for months. You think you can defeat me? I'll show you a pain that you could have never imagined before!” Thanos yelled down at Maxwell, spit dropping down on Maxwell's face.
Barely able to breathe, he couldn't say anything. Thanos' foot was securely crushing Maxwell's voice. He grabbed at his foot and leg, trying to pry it off. He wanted to yell at him to stop, he wanted to explain everything. There was no time. Thanos slowly raised his whip again, high above his head. Putting his entire body into it, he thrusted down, slashing Maxwell across the chest.
Thanos was right about one thing, it was an unimaginable pain. You see, back when Telephos had made the deal with the Telchine, the wizard didn't fully follow through on his promise. While he agreed to make it so none of Telephos' children could harm each other, that pain had to go somewhere. And so there it was, withering throughout Thanos' body, the most unimaginable pain. The lashing shot through his hand into his arm once again just like before. It reverberated through his chest. Thanos' body curled up into a tight ball trying to conceal the pain. He screamed in agony. The pain contracted his body tighter and tighter together. Maxwell looked on bewildered. He wanted to help his brother, but he didn't know how.
With one last scream coupled with the sound of a grunt, Thanos' body tightened one last time, and then the pain that had a hold over him released its grip. Thanos' body relaxed, and then it lie there motionless on the floor. Maxwell stood up, and walked over to it. Kneeling beside it, he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. He examined him for a moment before rolling him over on his back. Thanos lie, lifeless on the ground, eyes and mouth shut, lines spread out across his face from being clenched in pain. His face was pale, and his body was cold.
Maxwell felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up. It was Zeus, free from the spell. The rest of the gods had all formed a circle around Maxwell. The mighty god put his arm around Maxwell, and Maxwell turned into Zeus and wept.
Chapter 10
It had been a long day, longer than usual. Maxwell had spent most of it carving this great, new chariot for Helios. It was the least he could do, he thought. After all, it was Helios who had come to the rescue of his father so many times before. The latter part of the day was spent crafting a new sword for Ares. He had made many structures for the gods over the past few months, great fountains and bridges and awnings. He even expanded his craft, making houses and buildings. Although he was revered by the gods, and though they did their best to reject his offerings, Maxwell was a craftsman by trade.
As he closed up shop a little later than normal, a feeling of dread washed over him. He felt a little sick to his stomach and his hands clammed up.
“I knew this day was coming...” Maxwell muttered to himself.
He grabbed his pack and slung his silver hammer around his shoulder. He took the long way home, stopping at a field. He looked out over the field, and wandered in. After a while he came back out with an armful of flowers. He headed down the path that he taken so many times before over the year, and stopped for a moment as the silhouette of a house came into view. After taking a deep breath, he continued.
Before he could even get to the front door he heard a voice yell at him, “What took you so long?” He turned around the corner to where the voice had come from and before he could say anything the voice yelled back at him, “I've been standing out here for almost an hour!”
He rounded the corner, and there was Lucy standing with her arms crossed, sternly looking back at her brother. He walked over to her, and she smiled at him, giving him a quick hug before she took a few flowers for herself. They each walked over to the grave where their grandmother lie. Maxwell bent over and placed a flower in front of the tombstone he had carved a year ago. Lucy followed his lead, and placed her flower on top of it, creating an X. They stopped for a moment, and then continued to the next one. They placed flowers in the same fashion again, under another tombstone, and then another, and another.
After they finished, they stood back overlooking the cemetery they had created. The graves were lined in a row, with the first grave reading “ELEANOR”,the next grave “PENELOPE”, the next reading “TELEPHOS” and the last grave reading “THANOS”.
“I can't believe it's already been one year,” Lucy said to Maxwell.
There once came a time throughout Greece when all the Greek Gods were persecuted for their wrongs against mortal life forms. To save time in the story, generations after generations had passed throughout Greece, and the country fell to the supreme dictator known as Thanos Fotopoulos. Thanos was a direct descendant of Zeus himself, but neither Zeus nor Thanos acknowledge this claim.
Thanos rose to power shortly after the 4th Trojan War in which the city of Troy finally conquered the Greeks and reclaimed their city. It was in this war that Thanos was left to die by his Greek allies. You see, even though Thanos was part Greek God, he didn't exhibit any of the characteristics or powers that a natural Greek God or Goddess would. For this, he was ridiculed by the Gods. Of course, he never noticed it; Thanos loved every second of living amongst the gods.
The one power that Thanos did have was his love for invention. Because he seemingly didn't have any special powers, Thanos spent most of his free time inventing new gadgets that enabled him to simulate his own special powers. While he couldn't conjure up a storm like Poseidon or shoot off lightning bolts like Zeus from his own free will, he had the toys at his disposal that did the same exact thing.
The Greeks ridiculed him for this. They never took him or his inventions seriously. Thanos turned into the god that the other gods turned to whenever something needed to be done. Whenever one god had an errand they had to run that they didn't want to, they turned to Thanos to do this. Thanos never rejected; he felt as though this made him feel like one of the gods and that he was respected for having to do so many of these meaningless tasks.
It wasn't until this 4th Trojan War that Thanos fully realized that he was the whipping-boy of the gods. There came a time on the battlefield when Thanos was severely wounded. Both of his legs were shot off with a cannonball. As he cried out in pain, he noticed both Ares and Aphrodite, who both fell back into favor with the gods after the 2nd Trojan War, pass by his mangled body. He shrieked out to them, “Brother! Sister! Please help me! Take me back to Zeus where I can be mended! Can't you see that your brother is in anguish?”
With this, Ares looked at Aphrodite and merely said, “Leave him to die. A real god would have never succumbed to this fate.”
But, Thanos didn't die. In fact, he was taken into prison by the Trojans. There in prison he sat for close to a year in which he plotted his revenge. First, Thanos was able to gain favor with the Trojans by defecting to their side. Three engineers mechanically grafted new legs for him. He then created a new gadget that made him invisible, allowing him to sneak back to Mount Olympus to retrieve all of the other gadgets he had made over the years. With these gadgets, he was able to create powerful gods out of mortal men. Thanos easily became the Trojan leader and vanquished the gods. His most powerful gadget that he created was one that rendered the gods to that of their mortal counterparts. Once a god was caught in this powerful ray, his powers ceased to function. Thanos easily made the gods surrender.
After the gods surrendered, Thanos stormed Mount Olympus. He destroyed everything that once stood and created his own fortress. One of the features of this fortress was its very own Greek God prison, a prison that rendered the person motionless. It was there he sent all of the gods and goddesses that had turned their back on him. They were cursed to stay in this prison for all eternity, not able to move or speak, only left with their thoughts.
Thanos' second order of business was to condemn anyone who had any ties to the Greek Gods. He pillaged throughout the lands, persecuting anyone who had allegiances with the Gods. His message was clear, “Worship me, or face the same fate as the gods. The only difference is your mortality is certain; you will die at some point. So if you want to live a meaningful existence, you will accept me as your true god.”
Thanos’ reign of terror lasted for about five years until he was satisfied with his position of power. There came a time when he grew tired of ravishing the country side, and he retired back to Mount Olympus to bask in his own glory for destroying the Greek Gods once and for all.
Chapter 2
It was about this same time that a young man was coming of age in Greece. He held the same special quality that Thanos had; he was a direct descendant of Zeus. He was born a few years before the start of the 4th Trojan War, and though he wanted to fight in it, he was too young at the time. This young man was known as Maxwell. He was 19 years of age and had just completed his apprenticeship as a blacksmith. There was something special about Maxwell’s craft of blacksmithing; he had this special silver hammer that he used that gave each of his creations an inordinate amount of power. He had always been able to create the strongest swords that could cut through seemingly any material. He created the sturdiest structures that were used throughout Greece.
Maxwell and his family lived outside of Greece in the forest in a small town. Because of this town’s small size and its hidden location, Thanos quickly dismissed it as any type of threat. Maxwell’s mother worked as a caretaker and Maxwell’s father worked as a carpenter. They really weren’t affected by Thanos’ reign of terror; everyone in the small village of about fifty people lived peacefully before and after Thanos took over.
But something strange happened to Maxwell one night. As he was returning home after a full day’s work, he had a vision. He saw Thanos and he saw the gods captured in his prison. He saw Thanos slaughter off each and every one of the gods with a special sword that Thanos invented that was able to pierce through the god’s invincibility. Maxwell felt weird afterward. He witnessed the killings almost as if he was there personally. It wasn’t like in the dreams he had, it was almost as if he was transported spiritually to act as a spectator. After the vision ended, he walked a few steps as he familiarized himself with his surroundings. After these few steps, he had another vision. It was Zeus, chained by some sort of force field. Lasers bound his arms and feet, and Thanos was maniacally whipping Zeus’ back with this weird whip made up this elastic, laser material. Maxwell then heard Zeus speak directly to him. It wasn’t as if he was dreaming at all now. Maxwell was there, next to Zeus. He could feel Zeus’ pain. He could hear the whip slashing his back. He could smell the burnt flesh that Thanos’ whip pierced. He stared deep into Zeus’ eyes, the most painful eyes Maxwell has ever seen. He heard Zeus call to him, “Help. Help us please.”
With those words Maxwell shook back to reality. He found himself on the floor of the forest, drenched in sweat.
Now, Maxwell knew all about how Thanos bound the Gods. At first, he and his family, as well as the rest of the villagers, were frightened. One night, from their huts they could see Thanos and his massive army fly overhead. The village shut out every light as not to be noticed. They really didn't have to worry anyway, Thanos had already set his sights on the massive city of Greece and the shadow that fell over the tiny village created total blackness. You couldn't see your hand five inches in front of your face.
Since then, the village had lived in relative peace. No one paid much attention to it, and after a few circulations around fancier cities, no one came to know the true origins of Maxwell's work. That was quite fine with Maxwell, he didn't want the fame or notoriety that came with his great creations that he credited to his silver hammer; he was happier than anybody working in the tiny village. So it came with a great mixture of emotions to Maxwell when he had these visions. He stood up, shook himself off and slowly wandered home.
When he got home, his parents felt that something was off. Maxwell just said that he was tired and that he had a longer day than usual. He quickly ate his supper then retired to his bed. Of course, it took him hours to fall asleep. He had no idea what to make of his vision. It felt so real. Then it just disappeared. After what seemed like forever, his exhaustion consumed him and he fell asleep.
During this sleep, Maxwell had yet another vision. He was back in the dungeons underneath Mount Olympus. Zeus was staring dead into his eyes. After Zeus let out another cry for help, he heard Thanos bellow at him, “You!”
Not only did that bellow send shivers down Maxwell's spine, the shivers were strong enough to wake him from his sleep. His ears were still ringing from the chilling yell of Thanos. Now he was more than just scared, he was fearful for his life. Maxwell sat in bed half hoping that another vision came to him, half hoping that he could shrink underneath the covers to his bed and vanish forever. He looked out his window, and he could tell what time it was. Daylight had just broke through the forest trees, and it was just about time for him to greet the day. He got out of bed, put on his work clothes and washed up a bit. He ate his breakfast hastily and hoped to get to his shop in the quickest way possible. He was lucky when he had his first vision, at the time he was walking home most everyone in the village were already home. Maxwell usually works later than the rest of the villagers, especially when he gets swept up in his work. He also had the darkness shield him when he fainted. He didn't want the embarassment of talking to someone on the street and having a vision.
Thankfully, he made it to his shop. He was protected inside his walls, as normally the only person to talk to him throughout the day was the mail carrier, but the mail carrier only came once a week to pick up works that Maxwell had made for those in the city and to bring requests of structures from people in the city for Maxwell to make. This usually came on Friday, but today was Tuesday and Maxwell expected no visitors. He even made sure to lock the shop up entirely just in case.
It took Maxwell a little while but as soon as he picked up his silver hammer and started working he almost forgot about the visions that he had. It wasn't until he stopped for just a moment to wipe some sweat off of his brow that he felt those old feelings suddenly shape up. This vision, like the last few, started right where the last one left off. Thanos' bellow was still reverberating off of the dungeon walls. He barely had enough time to respond when Thanos snapped his whip in his direction. Without thinking, Maxwell thrust his arm up to block the whip. To his surprise, he had his silver hammer in hand, and as he thrust the hammer up to shield himself, the whip met the front end of the hammer.
When the whip and hammer met, it created a huge spark and blinded Maxwell. If that wasn't enough, Maxwell felt the worst pain in his life shoot from his fingertips to his hand and down through his arm, up to this shoulder and into his chest. He withered in pain, falling to the ground and clutched his arm to his chest with his other arm. He lied there in fear, as he knew any moment Thanos' shadow would soon encompass him. He waited for his inevitable death, but it never came. Though still in pain, he looked up, and noticed Thanos in the same pain that he was in. Whatever caused that spark, it must have ailed both of the men equally.
Maxwell turned over onto his knees and tried to push himself up with his uninjured arm. To his surprise, when he stood up he was back in his shop. He tried moving the arm that swung up to meet Thanos' whip. Streaks of pain shot up and down it before he clutched it back to his chest. “This wasn't just a vision,” Maxwell thought to himself, “this is real. This pain is real. Whatever is happening to me is real.” With that, Maxwell grabbed his hammer and his pack and took off for home.
Chapter 3
Woefully for Maxwell, he wasn't the only one who had seen these visions. At this exact moment miles and miles away, Thanos lay on the stone floor of his imperial fortress. With his eyes gleamed in wrath and his face deep red in anger, he hollered loud enough for everyone in the palace to him, spraying saliva and snot all over the floor a few inches in front of him. “Get me my chariot!”
Thanos had no clue where it exactly was he was going to go, but he had the same reaction that Maxwell had had. He first thought it was a play that Zeus was using to try to trick him, but Thanos had no idea what trick Zeus would have even been playing. It wasn't until this last vision that Thanos took action. He fetched some of his inventions and grabbed a few men to create a small army to accompany him on this new journey. Thanos swept through the countryside. At first, he didn't really know what it was he was searching for, but an idea came to him. He knew exactly what this person looked like that he saw in his visions. Just as it was for Maxwell, Thanos' vision came in first-person form. He remembers exactly what the young man looked like that was standing in his prison watching him whip Zeus. He quickly had two of his minions draw up a “Wanted” poster, and he quickly invented a new tool that replicated the poster thousands and thousands of times. He sent out his entire army to different cities throughout the land to post these pictures. “Wherever this kid is, he can't run far,” Thanos thought to himself.
While Maxwell didn't run that far, he did run for a ways before he came to a cliff that overlooked either a lake or an ocean. Maxwell wasn't too sure, but nevertheless he ascended down the cliff into an opening and made shelter in the cave.
What felt like an eternity passed, and Maxwell felt as though he should at least stick his head out into the open and get some fresh air. For whatever reason, Maxwell had always been able to go long periods without food or water. He didn't even feel that hungry or tired now that he thought about it. He slowly crept to the opening of the cave. He got to the last part that the sunlight could touch and carefully stared out into the distance. He could almost taste the salt on his tongue from the sea below. Everything looked peaceful, and so Maxwell walked out into the open light.
Not a split second could pass before he was snatched and was flung up into the sky. He couldn't make anything out, everything was moving so fast, but he could feel something latched onto his shoulders as if they were eagle claws holding him as prey. Just as abruptly as he was taken, the flight stopped. He looked down and could see he was floating above a cloud. He felt the grip relax on his shoulders, and he fearfully tried to grab up not wanting to fall back down to Earth. He wasn't able to get a good enough grasp, and he fell.
He didn't fall too far though, as he bounced right on top of the cloud he was hovering. He looked around for a moment, and then looked up to finally see what it was that had grabbed him. To his surprise, it was a woman. At least that's what Maxwell could make out. His first thoughts were that this person was from another planet. She had on some sort of glasses that reflected out tiny square and triangle shapes that came in all different colors that appeared to be reaching out at Maxwell. Aside from the glasses, she was draped in different cloths that almost did the same thing as the glasses. It was as if she was made of glass or porcelain and these colors bounced off of her. She had long, flowing blond hair and for a moment it was if she and Maxwell had made eye contact. Suddenly, something startled her, and her head perked up violently first left, then right, and she grabbed Maxwell again and off they went just as they had came.
They stopped again a few moments later. This time they were sitting in a boat on a river. Tall trees shielded them from above, and Maxwell couldn't look in any direction without getting lost in the trees. He looked out to his left and his right, and all he could see was the forest. He looked back behind him and in front of him, but the river curved around a bend behind him, and the trees shadowed whatever lay ahead.
“Hello? Excuse me could you please answer?” the ladies voice brought Maxwell back to where he was.
“Oh, sorry about that,” Maxwell sheepishly replied.
“Anyway, like I was saying, my name is Lucy. Don't ask about how I found you, we don't have enough time for that. What's important is that you've got some sort of mark on you that Thanos can track. I'm not sure what it is, probably one of his inventions, but whatever it is he can track you and find you within minutes. That's why we've got to be moving so swiftly. It's actually feeling as though we should get going again.”
And with that, Lucy grabbed Maxwell by the shoulders yet again and flew away to another place. This time they were in a field with daisies and flowers all around them. Before Maxwell had a chance to catch his breath, Lucy continued on with her story.
“See, after Thanos spent fruitless hours searching for you throughout Greece and Troy and whatever cities he could think of, he just decided to create a device to find you. At first, it didn't work at all. That's because Thanos only thinks big. He's too preoccupied with taking control of these big cities. That's why he didn't notice your tiny village outside of Greece just like he didn't notice any other small village. He doesn't care about these villages because he only thinks big. He wants to be known in these famous, huge cities. He wants to rule these cities.”
And with that, Lucy grabbed him again and they flew away to another place. They landed on a bridge this time in a forest similar to that of when they landed in the boat. Horses were down by the shores drinking water and chewing on hay. Lucy didn't waste a second continuing on with her story.
“So after he interrogated what seemed like everybody in any big city, he finally caught a break. Well, I guess you could say that. Anyway he found your mailman that came to your shop to deliver your mail and collect the finished projects you had completed. Well, it didn't take Thanos long before he found out about your village. It's not as if he killed or destroyed anything, but your shops gone.”
And with that last word, Lucy grabbed Maxwell by the collar and off they went. They landed in a place that seemed accidental. They were sitting in what looked like a train station, and it's as if they came through a window. As soon as they landed, three members of Thanos' army spotted them and yelled in their direction.
“Oh no! Here, hurry! Take these and put them on. When you do think of any place you want to go to and you'll be taken there!” Lucy shrieked out at Maxwell and thrust her glasses in his direction. As soon as she took the glasses off, what seemed like sunlight shot out of her eyes filling the entire station. The light blinded everyone and Maxwell tried to shield his eyes with his forearm.
“Hurry! Go! Put them on and go!” Lucy yelled at him.
Before Maxwell could even take his hands off of the glasses as he placed them on his face, he was whisked away. It wasn't really flying, he was stationary, his body was upright and he just kind of flew backward threw the air until he came upon the first place that came to his mind when he put the glasses on. He took the glasses off, let his eyes adjust to the dimness around him and then looked around. He found his pack and his hammer right where he had left it, sitting next to the small fire he had made. He was back in the cave that he spent what seemed to be months. He took a minute to collect himself and to think about all that Lucy had told him. That minute didn't last as long as Maxwell had hoped, for as soon as he sat down on the floor of the cave, he heard voices coming from above.
“Well, I'm not sure what's going on, but according to this map he should be here.”
“We better find him soon. Lord Thanos is going to be here any minute and we're either going to be heroes or the unfortunate two who arrived at the scene first with nothing to show.”
Chapter 4
Maxwell was frozen stiff, not wanting to alert the two soldiers who were standing at the top of cliff. Maxwell was a mere few feet away underneath the cliff, and his little cave was moments away from being discovered. Finally, he found the courage to do something. He took off for his hammer and his sack and he thrust the glasses onto his face. The next thing he knew, he was back in the little boat that he had come to what seemed like hours before. He couldn't think, couldn't move, hardly could even breathe. He did know one thing: he couldn't spend the rest of his life having to think of a new place to run to every other minute.
Even though that is what Maxwell did for the next half hour or so, popping up in about twenty different places, an idea finally came to him. He transported himself one final time to the first place Lucy had taken him to, on top of a cloud. He felt that he had enough time hiding up here to phrase his next destination perfectly before Thanos would reach him. He took off the glasses and began to think.
Finally, after about five minutes, he placed the glasses back on his face. To make sure he got the words right, he said them out loud just as how he had practiced over and over again in his head: “Take me to the one place in this world where Thanos would never find me,”
As soon as the last word escaped his mouth, he was flung again into the air. He traveled for longer than any of the previous times combined. As opposed to the other times, he didn't flow in a straight line either. He would move straight forward for a few moments, shoot left for a while, fly straight again, shoot right, and so on. After wondering if he would ever stop, his flight started to slow. This was odd, he thought. Besides usually flying in a straight line, he normally went the same exact speed until he reached his destination. This time, he floated down over a tiny village much like his own. This village wasn't shrouded with trees though; he could make out tiny structures that soon became tiny buildings. As he got closer and closer he could even make out tiny people. He expected to go right into the middle of the village, but his flight took him past that village and to the outskirts where a tiny wooden house stood.
He fluttered right down on the front doorstep of the house. He wasn't really sure what else to do. He looked around to take in his new surroundings, and, without even thinking about it, finally just knocked on the front door.
An older woman answered. She wore at least two layers of loose fitting clothing looking as though she was trying to stay warm. A wool shawl draped over her head and around her shoulders, hanging to her midsection. A pair of reading glasses hung around her neck down to her breast. She stood in the doorway, looking slightly confused until as if a light bulb went off in her head. A thin smile spread across her face and she lovingly said, “Maxwell! Welcome home!”
Before Maxwell could show any sense of surprise or bewilderment, the lady reached out for him with one arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. She pulled him into the house and took him over to a chair and motioned for him to sit down.
“Get yourself comfortable while I go put on some tea. I'm sure you're here for one reason only and it's going to take a while to explain it all to you,” the lady said as she limped off into the kitchen.
“Um, do you, uh, need any help with anything?” Maxwell replied after her.
“Now you don't worry about me. These old bones can handle walking into the kitchen and making a pot of tea. I've done it twice today and it's not going to hurt to do it one more time.”
Maxwell sank back into his chair that was cushioned from head to foot. He nervously sat and waited as the woman banged around in the kitchen. She came back out to the living room after she put the tea on the stove. She fell back into her chair, and stared over at Maxwell. A few moments passed before a smile fell over her face and she placed a hand over her mouth and looked down embarrassed.
“I'm sorry if I'm acting a little weird here, it's just been so long since I've seen you. You must be what, 19, 20 years now?”
“Yes, er, I'm 19 years old.”
“Yeah, I figured that. Anyway, I knew this day would finally come. Especially after that last war and everything that has happened since then. Anyway, where do you want me to start?”
“Well, I guess at the beginning?”
“Alrighty. Well, oh, hold on really fast the tea's done.”
The woman pushed herself up off of her chair and waddled back into the kitchen. A few minutes passed and she returned with a tray holding a large teapot with two glasses, two spoons and a small bowl of sugar placed around it. The woman set it down on a coffee table and poured her and Maxwell a glass. She asked him if he wanted any sugar, scooped two spoonfuls in and handed him his glass.
“Alright. Well, I guess there really isn't any stalling left that can be done. Maxwell,” and with that last word, she paused for a moment, let out a sigh and drew a large breath. “Maxwell, I'm your grandmother.”
Maxwell sat in silence. He wasn't really stunned or surprised. In fact, he didn't really show any emotion whatsoever. Ever since he had his first vision nothing really surprised him anymore.
“Sorry, please go on,” Maxwell said as the woman waited for a response. He looked in intently this time and waited patiently for her next words. He couldn't really think of anything. He had known his grandparents from his mother's side of the family, but all he could remember about his father's side was that they had died years ago when he was young.
“Well, you see, here's where you basically half to forget everything that you have come to know as true in your life. I'm your grandmother. So now you’re probably thinking who it was that I gave birth to, your mother or your father. Truth is I didn't birth either of them. Who I did birth was your real mother. See, you are adopted, and your parents are not your real parents. Your real father is Telephos, son of Heracles. Your mother is my daughter, Penny. And you should probably know this before I get any deeper into the story, but you have a brother as well. His name is Thanos.”
Chapter 5
Maxwell’s grip on his teacup loosened and it fell out of his hand, falling to the carpet and spilling everywhere. He had thought he was ready for any type of new excitement and surprises, but this capped everything. It felt as though someone had taken his silver hammer and rammed it into his stomach. He felt sick, nauseated, distressed and felt as though he was about to cry. Underneath all of that, the previous words the woman had told him really started to sink in. He really couldn’t believe it, but he had no other choice. Maxwell couldn’t reach for the words to even begin an argument. He always felt out of place in his family; his father stood no higher than five feet and five inches off the ground while wearing his work boots and his mother barely made it to five feet. Maxwell stood six feet and three inches, weighing well over 220 pounds. He credited this to his blacksmithing. He thought all those years working in such a grueling position added to his body mass. I mean, he at least looked the part of a Greek god. But how could it be so?
Before Maxwell got lost in too much thought, he was brought back down to Earth once again by the woman’s voice .She had just finished cleaning up Maxwell’s accident and he had just realized he had been frozen like a statue. He didn’t even remember the woman giving him a napkin to clean himself off with.
“I might as well continue this tale, and I know it’s a lot to take it but it must be told. Anyway, a long time ago, Telephos had to go on a journey. His son, I guess you could say your half-brother, was killed in a battle halfway across the ocean. Telephos wanted revenge, and that’s another story within itself. Anyway, on his journey, Telephos came upon this area. Back then, there were huge trolls that lived in the hills that can be seen from my corner window. Thrice a year, the trolls wandered down from the hills to feast. Every time the trolls came down, we either had to hide or leave the area as not to be eaten. This went on for about four years; nobody in the village is really sure why the trolls came to these parts, some think it was because of a war that they lost against another group of giants and they were forced to relocate. This village used to be much bigger, but the first time the trolls came they destroyed most of it. We really didn’t have anywhere else to go, and so we just rebuilt, hoping that it was just a onetime occurrence. Of course it wasn’t, but at least this time we had built a bunker underneath the village to hide us from their attack.”
She paused for a moment to take a sip from her tea before continuing. “Like I said, this went on for about four years; I can remember eleven total times the trolls came down. It was then that Telephos had wandered across our village. He stopped for the night and as luck would have it, as we had predicted from the previous times the trolls had come; they were due to attack in less than two weeks. We told Telephos about our burden, and he agreed to slay the trolls for us. He stayed in the village for about three days before he set off into the hills to face these demons with this great hammer that he possessed. A day passed. Then the days turned into a week, and the weeks turned into a month. Telephos had never returned, but neither did the Trolls. It wasn’t until my daughter, Penelope, went out into the forest one day to pick some berries, apples and things like that. On her own journey, she came across this figure lying on the ground. She thought it might have been some sort of dead animal, but as she crept closer and closer, she realized it was a man. Well, it wasn’t just any man, mind you. It was the god Telephos. He was wounded pretty badly and it’s amazing that he had survived for so long. Of course, being the son of Heracles and part mortal himself, Telephos doesn’t exhibit all of the characteristics of a true god, much like yourself and your brother.”
The woman paused again this time, stood up and went into the kitchen. Maxwell let everything wash over him, and let it sink in as slowly as possible. The woman soon returned with another pot of tea. She sat in the kitchen the entire time the tea was brewing. She brought the tea out in the same fashion as last time, handing Maxwell his cup before she sat down.
“This time, try not to spill it.” She mockingly said. “Anyway, she brought him here at once to mend. Telephos stayed here for about two months before he was feeling like his old self again. As fate would have it, the two slowly fell in love with each other. Not to get into too specific of details, but my daughter became pregnant. Neither realized it, but Telephos soon had to leave. He had to continue on his journey. After his journey, he almost completely forgot about our tiny village and what he had done and what had happened. Let’s just say it wasn’t the only trouble he faced on his way. According to legend, after he had enacted his revenge for his son’s death, the sun-god Helios helped Telephos back home. He greatly admired Telephos after witnessing most of his journey from his chariot in the sky. He allowed Telephos to use his chariot and gave him a ride back to his home, effectively keeping the sun in the sky for some very awkward hours.”
The woman took some time to pour herself another cup of tea. She looked out of the window for a moment as darkness had slowly crept on the village.
“I better hurry with this or it’s going to be way past my bedtime when I finally get to sleep. Though Telephos didn’t come back through this town, my daughter was still very much pregnant. Well, one night Telephos had a dream the night of his son’s birth. In this dream he basically saw the birth of his son. When he told us later about his dream, it was remarkable. It was almost if he was actually here the entire time because all of the details were just so true. Immediately he set off to come back to this village. Another problem persisted as it always does in these stories, but Telephos couldn’t exactly remember where this village was. He finally got here about two years later. He had found these glasses that had some sort of magical power. They would take you anywhere you wanted to go. Alas, he returned to the village, and lived with us for a few months.”
“As luck would have it, my daughter was pregnant again. Sadly, she died giving birth to that second child. Not to get too far into those details, because I’m not sure I could handle reliving that story again, Telephos had agreed to take one of the sons with him to Mount Olympus. He felt that he would only be allowed to take one back, and that he would have a very hard time explaining that story in itself. So I was left with you. Now, don’t make me out for a bad person, but I couldn’t handle it. All I had in this world was my daughter after my husband had died in the first invasion of the trolls. It was bad enough that I technically wasn’t even married yet. My wedding night was set for the exact night the trolls first stormed into our village and destroyed everything. I was pregnant at the time, and I was in my wedding dress waiting and waiting, all alone.”
The woman’s eyes soon became glassy and tears formed in the linings of her eyes. She blinked a few times to clear them out with a few drops falling down her cheeks and cleared her throat before continuing.
“So, I took you in, but after a few months I couldn’t handle it anymore. I packaged you up in a box and basically shipped you off for whomever to find you. I know, it sounds terrible, and I’ve had to live with that for the past 19 years. Anyway, back to the story as you know what happened to you. Your father, Telephos, died on his trip back to Mount Olympus. I’m not really sure how, but I know that he gave your brother, who had to have been six or so at the time, to Zeus and asked him to take care of the boy. He didn’t tell Zeus anything about his origins or where he had found him; all he told Zeus on his death bed was that your brother was part god. So Zeus took the child in, and although there was nothing to suggest the kid was a god, he had his special ability of mimicry. He was able to create this tools that mimicked the other god’s powers. He soon learned how to invent his own special powers, as we all know, and that is how he was able to overthrow the gods at about the same age you are yourself. Kind of strange how both of your paths is similar; when Thanos was your age his path took him to overthrow the gods and now your path at this age is leading you to rescue the gods.”
Finally, Maxwell understood. He knew what it was he had to do. He understood the visions. Zeus had instructed him to free the gods from their spell.
Before he could continue on with his thought, the poor woman broke out into tears. Sobbingly she stammered out, “The only bad thing is, you were never supposed to even make it this far. See, Zeus knew well about you; he wouldn’t have been Zeus if he didn’t know. He knew where Thanos came from, he knew well about you. And he knew all about your twin sister. Yes, that woman who gave you those glasses and who rescued you from those caves was your twin sister, Lucille. I had to take care of the both of you, and when my feet crumbled underneath me and I couldn’t bear it anymore, I sent you in one direction and her in the other. As if Zeus knew what was coming, he cast out a protective shield over this tiny village. You don’t have to worry about Thanos finding you here, because that spell Zeus cast out has made it impossible for him to find this place. Zeus tried his best to erase Thanos’ memory of his past, and he was able to erase this place, our village. But he wasn’t able to erase his memories completely. Thanos has had visions of me helping you, and he has been trying his best to create an invention to find this place. Thankfully for our village, he couldn’t. So he did the next best thing: he cast a spell over me to kill you.”
Maxwell jumped up, spilling his tea all over the floor yet again. He grabbed for his silver hammer and he held it on in front of him between him and the woman.
“Whatever it is you are going to attempt, save it. You are a frail old woman, and I do not wish to fight you. If your stories are true, then you must be my grandmother, and I am in no way going to harm my family.”
“Don’t worry Maxwell; you won’t have to worry about anything. See, I knew I could never fight you either. My best attempt at killing you was to poison this tea. Luckily, you didn’t drink any of it; you spilled it all on the floor. You don’t have to worry about dying here.”
Maxwell let out a sigh of relief, as he knew he didn’t drink any of the two cups presented to him. He let his guard down and lowered his weapon. Just then he realized, the poor woman had been slowly drinking the tea the entire time!
“Wait, but, you’ve been drinking the tea throughout your story! Do you mean to tell me you have poisoned yourself?” Maxwell asked.
“Yes, Maxwell. I’ve had to bear so many weights in this life. I had to suffer through the death of my husband on our wedding night. I had to suffer through the death of my daughter in childbirth. I had to suffer through sending you and your sister off in two different directions. I had to suffer through all these visions that I’ve been having myself recently, telling me of your journey, your brother’s journey and your sister’s journey. I knew about everything before you entered through that door. I even knew you would land on that doorstep. It took me a minute to recognize you, but you caught me in the middle of a nap. Anyway, to end this misery and not to have to bear the outcomes, I felt as though I should end it myself right here. I’m not sure how much longer I got, but if you please, let me just rest here peacefully. I’m really starting to run out of the strength to continue on with this story. You basically know everything; your journey is to free the gods. Just remember, you…”
The woman started to tale off. Maxwell knew her end was near; he could tell the poison had started to consume her. He knelt beside her, grabbing her hands in his. He tried to plead with her to finish her last sentence, but she couldn’t muster any words. The only thing that could escape her mouth was faint bursts of breaths as she attempted to speak. With one last loving look into Maxwell’s eyes and a weak smile that formed across her face, the woman shut her eyes for good and her body sunk deep into the chair she was resting on.
Tears came to Maxwell’s eyes. He spent the rest of the night mourning the loss of his grandmother, his true grandmother who he had only known for a few hours. He quickly forgave her of any wrongs she may have done. He fully realized the burdens she had to bear throughout her life. The next morning he awoke early and went outside of the small, wooden house and dug her final resting place. Next, he set off to carving a tombstone for her. He searched throughout the house, but all he could find that he could attach to her for a name was Eleanor. He put his silver hammer to work and put all of the sweat and tears he could muster into her tombstone. It really was an incredible sight. Out of normal rocks and stones he found in the forest, he churned out a marvelous work of art. His silver hammer turned the regular stone into beautiful deep purple, blue and grey marble that read ELEANOR across the top. He placed the woman’s body in a makeshift casket that he created from the tree branches and firewood he could find around the house and set the casket down into the grave he had dug. After he buried the casket, he stood for a minute over the grave.
“Such a sad day. This poor, lonely woman, all she has had to endure, and for what? For nobody to come to her funeral?”
With that, he walked away from the grave, wiping the dirt from his hands.
Chapter 6
A few days had passed since Eleanor’s death. Thanos finally ended his search for Maxwell after his specially created map could no longer track him. He tried a few different things in the meantime, waiting for Maxwell in his old village, taking his parents hostage. When Maxwell never returned, Thanos grew irritated and restless. He returned to Mount Olympus to plot his next actions. The only image that kept coming back into his mind was that of him whipping Zeus as Maxwell watched. He could picture the images right in front of his face as he toiled away on his high throne. Thanos replayed the scene in his head. He could feel the glee that he had had while whipping Zeus with his laser-like whip. He could feel the same rage wash over him right in his chair when he saw Maxwell with hammer in tow. After taking a few days himself to relax, he decided to act on his visions.
“This was obviously a vision of the future, and so that is why my efforts were fruitless. This scene will have to play itself out. That is the way it was intended,” Thanos thought to himself. Thus, he grabbed a few supplies and headed down to the dungeons.
The image of the gods frozen in time would have made for a mightier masterpiece than anyone could have penned or sculpted. Thanos, cruel as he was, positioned each god into a different pose that reflected the history of each god. Zeus was positioned as the mighty god that he was, standing tall above others with a shield in one arm and a lightning bolt in the other. Positioned behind Zeus was Hera, beautiful as she was, one arm resting on Zeus’ back with the other arm clutching the arm Zeus held the lightning bolt with at the biceps, seemingly holding him back. In this same fashion, gods and goddesses were all positioned. Poseidon was frozen with his arms outstretched, powerful trident in one hand and the other hand palm up facing the skies. They were at an angle that looked as if he was awakening the seas, raising a ferocious storm. Ares was shown as the fierce war-god that he was. Helios was in his chariot with horses made of fire carrying him. Aphrodite was simply stunning. As luscious as she was in life, she was twice that in her frozen state, suggestively holding pieces of cloth around her top and midsection that looked to be sliding off her gorgeous body.
Thanos stared at his masterpiece. He thought about having an artist or architect come in and create this same image, but it wouldn’t be the same. Nothing could capture the lifelike, vivid validity of the scene. No artist could capture that same pain and anguish that each god expressed in their eyes underneath the way Thanos had specifically contorted each body part to signify each god’s raw, natural presence.
“This Maxwell will receive twice the punishment that I inflict on each god combined for ruining my craftsmanship,” Thanos said out loud before he went to each god individually and bound their hands and feet in a force field like beam. He went to the front of the dungeon and pressed a button on the wall, and each god came to life. Though they could move their extremities and were alive again, they couldn’t move anywhere. The force field Thanos equipped froze them in place.
“You all know why you’re here. You all probably know what’s going to happen. I’m not going to waste my breath on telling you the entire story. No, I’m just going to get started and let history take its course as it should.”
With a quick flick of his wrist, Thanos’ whip unraveled out. He started with those who he deemed more insignificant, working his way up to the more important ones until he got to Zeus. He forced the other gods to watch by freezing their eyelids and heads in place as he lashed out his vengeance. If this was how he and Maxwell were supposed to meet, this is what he must do.
Meanwhile, Maxwell was still contemplating his course of action. One afternoon as he was cutting firewood for the night, his body became stiff. The axe fell from his hand, and his legs began to feel like jelly. His vision turned dark, and the old feelings of being taken away to another place began to return. This wasn’t quite like the visions he had earlier, it didn’t feel quite like he was there; more like an out-of-body experience. He witness Thanos distributing lash after lash to the different gods. He couldn’t hear the whip slicing through the gods’ flesh this time, or hear the screams. After witnessing Thanos whip about four gods and two goddesses, his vision turned black and he returned to his body. He woke from his trance, standing upright as opposed to on the ground again. He paused, gathered the wood he had cut and went inside.
He paced around the living room for quite some time, stopping every now and then to put more wood into the fire he had made. He knew what he had to do. The first vision he had replayed in his mind in the same fashion that it had for Thanos. He saw himself; he saw all that he had with him. There was no great army he was going to round up to fight by his side. All he had in the vision was his silver hammer. He grasped the top of the hammer in his left hand. So smooth, so pure. Maxwell looked closer, realizing for the first time that the name given to his hammer was more than just a name; the top of the hammer was made of solid silver. He figured that it was something his father Telephos had left for him, something that his grandmother had included when she shipped him off down the river. He looked carefully at it, examining its features and textures. “This was the same hammer my father used to slay the trolls. The same hammer that I’ve taken for granted all these years. I’ve never really respected this as much as I should have, or realized its true potential. All these years of my blacksmithing, including whatever my father had done with it, and it is still in perfect condition,” Maxwell thought out loud before his voice tailed off.
It was right then that he noticed a curious indentation in the hammer. Towards the top of the head and curving up to the top, there was a strange mark. “…almost as if it was slashed by a whip…” Maxwell continued. Just as plain as day, the same spot where Thanos’ whip had struck the hammer, a mark etched into the silver.
Maxwell studied it, running his forefinger and thumb over it countless times. He could almost feel the pain that that mark had inflicted within him. His eyes could remember the great spark that blinded the entire room. Without hesitating any longer, Maxwell slung his hammer around his right shoulder and reached for his pack. He fished around before ultimately pulling out the weird glasses that his sister had given him. Studying them for a moment, he thought that they must have been given to Lucy by their father as well, not only to shield her eyes from the rest of the world, but to transport her to wherever she wanted to go. He held the frames in each hand by each hinge, looking down into the mysterious colors the glasses reflected back. It was almost like staring deep down into a multi-colored, three dimensional quicksand that had just consumed something. He took a great breath, closed his eyes, and went to put the glasses over his eyes.
Chapter 7
Right before the glasses could come into contact with Maxwell’s face, a flash of light blinded him and something grabbed him from behind. He felt a strong grip on his right shoulder pulling him down and another arm reach around his left shoulder snatching away the glasses. Maxwell fought back, thrusting his body backwards into the person, knocking it down. He quickly turned around, grabbed his hammer and went to face the intruder. Before he could do anything, the massive light vanished and the fire was the only thing left to illuminate the room. He looked down and recognized the figure right away. It was Lucy! She scrambled to put the glasses back on.
“Thanks for these. You have no idea how hard it is to get around when every time you open your eyes you emit a light as bright as the sun,” Lucy said as she gathered herself from off the floor. “That was a little bit of a mistake on my part, but I got scared. I didn’t know of any other place I could think of to go in safety and so I gave you the glasses hoping you would go somewhere safe. Thankfully you did. Don’t worry about me, none of Thanos’ men had any idea of what happened, nor could they identify me. It took me so long to get back here; you have no idea how hard it was to travel without these things,” she said as she tapped the glasses on the side. “You probably don’t have to fill me in on anything, I knew of the curse Grandma Eleanor was under. I fully prepared myself for coming back here knowing she was gone.”
Even though Maxwell couldn’t see it, tears formed in Lucy’s eyes. Maxwell told her how he had buried her and about the tombstone he had carved. The two siblings went out back and stood over their grandmother’s grave. After a few moments, Maxwell reached out to his sister, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders. It was at this moment the two felt truly connected as brother and sister. Lucy turned into Maxwell and he embraced her as silent tears fell underneath her glasses.
The two returned inside the house. They both sat themselves down, Maxwell taking the chair he had previously sat in and Lucy taking the chair her grandmother had sat in. Though both wanted to reminisce about their lives, their history, where they had come from to that first meeting outside of the cave, they knew there were more important issues at hand. Maxwell discussed all that Eleanor had told him, up to her final breaths, and of how he has interpreted his visions. Maxwell wanted to use the glasses to take him to Mount Olympus to free the gods. He knew he foresaw the future, and all he had to take with him was his silver hammer. Though Lucy wanted to accompany him, she knew that she would be of no help without her glasses. Besides, if Maxwell failed, Lucy would be the only hope left for the gods.
With one last, long hug, Lucy gave possession of the glasses to Maxwell. He held them in his hands again, took a last look at Lucy. Even though her eyes were shut tight to shield the light, Maxwell could see a wetness start to spread under her eyes. Before he had any second thoughts, he quickly placed the glasses over his eyes and in his mind thought of the one place that he didn’t want to go to.
And just like that, Maxwell was gone. Lucy sat alone in the dark, her eyes closed to block out the power light that shone through her eyes. It didn't bother her any, but she knew with making eye contact for a split-second with someone she could render them blind. She felt her way around the house, reaching for her grandmother's chair. She sat down, crossed her legs and tried her best to start patiently waiting. She tried to envision Maxwell's journey. She thought about her grandmother, what she had told her brother. Just then she realized something, she forgot something vital.
“Grandmother's last words... I didn't tell Maxwell what they meant!” Lucy exclaimed in shock.
All those years ago when Telephos took Thanos with him to Mount Olympus, he was paranoid of one thing: that one day, somehow, somewhere, his children would meet in the battlefield. In order to prevent them harming each other, he sought out the powerful Telchines. The Telchines were magical and had supreme wizardry powers. Years ago, it was believed that Zeus or Poseidon had killed them because they started to abuse these powers. Not all of them had died though, and a few were scattered around the country. Telephos knew of one that he had run into years before on his original journey that led him to Penelope. Telephos had previously asked the wizard to cast a protective shield over him and in return, Telephos would go to the underworld and bring back the rest of the Telchines. Of course, after Telephos completed his journey, Helios took him back to Mount Olympus in his chariot, and Telephos was never able to complete the task he had agreed to for the Telchine wizard.
So upon returning to the Telchine, Telephos apologized, and said that at that very instant, if the wizard agreed to cast one more spell for him, Telephos would go down to the underworld to free the rest of the wizards. The wizard agree, but had one stipulation. Afterward, the wizard would remove the protective shield from Telephos' body, and all damage that he had received on the previous journey to seek revenge for his son would be inflicted back onto him. Even though he was certain it would lead to his death, Telephos agreed. What was more important to him was that his children weren't able to harm one another. Soon after completing the task and freeing the Telchine from Hades' grip, the wizard cast the spell, protecting his children from one another. The wizard also removed the previous spell, and in doing so, a sudden rush fell over Telephos. It didn't feel like a normal pain, but whatever it was went through every bone in his body, making him feel very weak and frail. He fell to his knees. Lashes suddenly appeared all over his body, as if an invisible force was beating down on him. Blood spurt from his mouth. A throbbing pain spread across his stomach. A sharp pain grew in his sternum, spreading out across his chest. He felt that at any second, he was going to implode.
Helios was watching over again, and, just like the last time, came to Telephos' rescue. Whatever it was, the two had some sort of bond, and he sacrificed his duties in the sky to take Telephos and the young boy back to Mount Olympus. He dropped them off at the foot of Zeus' throne, and that is wear Telephos asked with his last breaths if Zeus would take the boy in.
Chapter 8
If the last flight to find the tiny village where his grandmother lived felt like an eternity, this flight was that plus some. It felt like the glasses had a mind and conscience of their own, and subconsciously they didn't want anything to do with Mount Olympus. Nevertheless, they took Maxwell where he wanted to go. He found himself in a forest that surrounded Thanos' fortress. He half expected guards to be waiting for him as they were at the train station, but Thanos had given up on his magic map and couldn't see the tiny dot that had just appeared right outside his castle walls.
Maxwell looked around, trying to find some sort of opening. With the oncoming threat, Thanos stepped up his protection. Maxwell tried using the glasses to get him over the gate, but he bounced right off the force-field Thanos had inserted that created a bubble over his fortress. Maxwell was well past frustration. He grabbed his hammer, and without thinking twice took his frustration out on the wall, rearing back with one massive swing. To his surprise, the mighty wall cracked! Feeling invigorated, Maxwell swung again, and again, and again. Blow after blow, Maxwell fought his way through the wall. He could start to see through the wall to the other side. He made just a big enough hole that he could fit his body through. He still had his doubts about the force-field. Was he going to bounce off again? Or pass right through? He could see the tint of the protective shield right on the other side of the wall. With a careful hand, he stuck his arm out. With his fingertips centimeters away, he tried sliding his hand through. To his surprise, it went through; nothing happened. Thanos had not built this structure to repel living things, he had created it with the intention to repel any type of magic.
Maxwell was through the walls. Silently, he slid up to the stone structure that Thanos had created for himself. He hid himself in some massive bushes outside of a smaller side gate that appeared to be open. He waited, wondering if this was some trap Thanos had tried to spring. After a few moments, Maxwell heard something. It sounded like boots beating down on the concrete. He could hear voices off in the distance. Maxwell strained his ears and tried to listen in.
“Why can't Lord Thanos just create the foods and the banners and all of the other decorations himself? This seems so meaningless having to continuously wander in and out to bring in all of these supplies for this feast he plans to throw,” One voice said, growing stronger and stronger with each word.
“Well, he said it himself nothing magical can happen under this shield thing. It's not so bad, really. As soon as Lord Thanos destroys that one kid he'll release this shield and have one of those wizards create the rest. This is going to be the biggest festival ever. If the food and all that other stuff isn't enough, just think of all those gods placed around as our decorations!” The other man replied as they reached the entrance of the gate. Maxwell waited a few seconds after they had passed, and slipped in as silently as he could. It was pitch black. No matter how long he waited, his eyes didn't adjust to his surroundings at all. He was afraid to move, not knowing where it was he was going or what lie ahead. He heard the voices returning, and froze in shock.
“Yep, it wasn't too bad. I've seen better plays of course but at least this one was unique. It wasn't really the same old story just told in a different way. You know, even though the place can't have any magic around, it would have been nice if Lord Thanos provided some light to these corridors. When it turns to night, you can't see anything in this castle.”
Maxwell waited, and heard the two men pass. He let out a sigh of relief, and plotted his next move. For whatever reason, he was fingering the glasses that were in his pocket. Without having a better idea, he put them on. He could see again! The glasses might have their own magical qualities of transportation, but whatever it was that illuminated the corridor wasn't much of magic. The only thing was that, just like how they were when he first saw them, the colorful shapes of rectangles, triangles and squares danced around, slowly twirling in different directions. He could see, but everything in front of him seemed to rotate and spin.
“This must be how Lucy always sees,” Maxwell thought before he crept along the hallway. He froze for a moment as he heard the two men returning. He placed his body flat against the wall, and watched as they passed by him, carrying different ribbons and cloths, arguing about the causes of the 2nd Trojan War. After they passed, he continued. He walked along so many different hallways, into so many different rooms, avoiding the few candles that were carelessly put up in places that Thanos hardly ever went, until he heard something. It sounded grotesque, like a slab of meat slapping the concrete as its dropped to the floor of a butcher's shop. Then he heard the wails. If that wasn't enough, the pleads followed.
Hatred rushed over him. Even though this was his brother, what he was doing was inhumane, criminal and vicious. No man should endure this type of punishment onto another. Maxwell followed the sound of the screams, finding an opening that led down a flight of stairs. If Thanos' reign and power had taught him one thing, it was carelessness. Maxwell descended the stairway and came to the opening of the dungeons.
He had seen this before, so many times played out in his head. He took the glasses off and placed them in his pack. He slung his hammer back around his head and held it in one hand. Almost as if he was having another out-of-body experience, he felt his legs start to move. He could see himself doing these things, but as fearful as he was he couldn't stop himself. He walked out into the open, and stood in the same place he had been before. He knew what was coming, and he awaited the inevitable.
If it hadn't already happened before, Thanos had gone crazy. With the other gods, he handed out each lashing and moved on. But when he got to Zeus, the all-powerful Zeus, each whip invigorated him. Each slash delivered fed into Thanos. This was a man possessed. Harder and harder, faster and faster Thanos swung. Who knows how long this had been going on. It's uncertain if Zeus could even feel anything anymore, his body so numb from the countless whips he had endured.
Just then, Zeus looked up. The pain in his eyes could have brought any man to their knees. He looked right at Maxwell, and let out, almost a whisper, the words “help, help us, please”. Maxwell got lost in those words. He almost forgot what was coming next, the roar that could be heard for miles upon miles.
“YOU!”
Before Maxwell could react, Thanos swung his whip at him. No matter how many times he had envisioned this and replayed it in his head, Thanos' anger consumed him and he lashed out. Maxwell swung his hammer up, and the whip met the hammer. Pain shot through Maxwell's body again, worse than how he had felt it in the vision. He withered in pain on the floor and again waited for Thanos' shadow to consume his body. Of course, it didn't.
He rolled over and pushed himself up to his knees, clutching one arm to his chest. He reached over and picked up his hammer and stood upright. The pain that went through Maxwell's body had to have been tenfold for Thanos. He was madly shrieking out in pain, rolling left and right, clutching his body. With all the strength and courage he had left, Maxwell limped towards Thanos. Through the pain, he raised his mighty silver hammer up above his head, and looked to give Thanos one last fateful blow.
Chapter 9
“NOOOOOOO!!!!!” came a roar much louder than Thanos' had been. Maxwell turned in shock towards the direction of the shout, and saw it was Zeus!
“You mustn't!” Zeus cried.
Before Maxwell could respond, his legs swung out from underneath him. Thanos had tripped him and was now standing over Maxwell with a foot pressed against his neck. With a flick of his wrist, his whip uncoiled, sparking as it hit the stone floor. Thanos looked deep into Maxwell's eyes. Maxwell could feel the seething glare burn through him. Zeus let out another cry, pleading this time for Thanos to stop.
“You don't understand! Listen to me, you cannot defeat him!”
Thanos coldly turned towards Zeus without letting up on the grip he had on Maxwell's throat. Without saying anything, he reared his arm back, and delivered the sharpest blow of all, the whip snapping across Zeus' mouth. The mighty god roared in pain, and couldn't speak at all. Thanos turned back down to Maxwell, pressing harder into his neck.
“I have waited for this for months. You think you can defeat me? I'll show you a pain that you could have never imagined before!” Thanos yelled down at Maxwell, spit dropping down on Maxwell's face.
Barely able to breathe, he couldn't say anything. Thanos' foot was securely crushing Maxwell's voice. He grabbed at his foot and leg, trying to pry it off. He wanted to yell at him to stop, he wanted to explain everything. There was no time. Thanos slowly raised his whip again, high above his head. Putting his entire body into it, he thrusted down, slashing Maxwell across the chest.
Thanos was right about one thing, it was an unimaginable pain. You see, back when Telephos had made the deal with the Telchine, the wizard didn't fully follow through on his promise. While he agreed to make it so none of Telephos' children could harm each other, that pain had to go somewhere. And so there it was, withering throughout Thanos' body, the most unimaginable pain. The lashing shot through his hand into his arm once again just like before. It reverberated through his chest. Thanos' body curled up into a tight ball trying to conceal the pain. He screamed in agony. The pain contracted his body tighter and tighter together. Maxwell looked on bewildered. He wanted to help his brother, but he didn't know how.
With one last scream coupled with the sound of a grunt, Thanos' body tightened one last time, and then the pain that had a hold over him released its grip. Thanos' body relaxed, and then it lie there motionless on the floor. Maxwell stood up, and walked over to it. Kneeling beside it, he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. He examined him for a moment before rolling him over on his back. Thanos lie, lifeless on the ground, eyes and mouth shut, lines spread out across his face from being clenched in pain. His face was pale, and his body was cold.
Maxwell felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up. It was Zeus, free from the spell. The rest of the gods had all formed a circle around Maxwell. The mighty god put his arm around Maxwell, and Maxwell turned into Zeus and wept.
Chapter 10
It had been a long day, longer than usual. Maxwell had spent most of it carving this great, new chariot for Helios. It was the least he could do, he thought. After all, it was Helios who had come to the rescue of his father so many times before. The latter part of the day was spent crafting a new sword for Ares. He had made many structures for the gods over the past few months, great fountains and bridges and awnings. He even expanded his craft, making houses and buildings. Although he was revered by the gods, and though they did their best to reject his offerings, Maxwell was a craftsman by trade.
As he closed up shop a little later than normal, a feeling of dread washed over him. He felt a little sick to his stomach and his hands clammed up.
“I knew this day was coming...” Maxwell muttered to himself.
He grabbed his pack and slung his silver hammer around his shoulder. He took the long way home, stopping at a field. He looked out over the field, and wandered in. After a while he came back out with an armful of flowers. He headed down the path that he taken so many times before over the year, and stopped for a moment as the silhouette of a house came into view. After taking a deep breath, he continued.
Before he could even get to the front door he heard a voice yell at him, “What took you so long?” He turned around the corner to where the voice had come from and before he could say anything the voice yelled back at him, “I've been standing out here for almost an hour!”
He rounded the corner, and there was Lucy standing with her arms crossed, sternly looking back at her brother. He walked over to her, and she smiled at him, giving him a quick hug before she took a few flowers for herself. They each walked over to the grave where their grandmother lie. Maxwell bent over and placed a flower in front of the tombstone he had carved a year ago. Lucy followed his lead, and placed her flower on top of it, creating an X. They stopped for a moment, and then continued to the next one. They placed flowers in the same fashion again, under another tombstone, and then another, and another.
After they finished, they stood back overlooking the cemetery they had created. The graves were lined in a row, with the first grave reading “ELEANOR”,the next grave “PENELOPE”, the next reading “TELEPHOS” and the last grave reading “THANOS”.
“I can't believe it's already been one year,” Lucy said to Maxwell.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
NFL Preview
The first day of any season for any sport offers one thing for every team: optimism. Every team starts on even ground. Despite every prediction, every past record, every player transition, no prediction can accurately measure what the future holds for each team. This is true more so in professional football more so than any other sport. The National Football League breeds parity. Every 3-13 and 4-12 has the hope of a rags to riches story. Every 13-3 or 12-4 team can feel the ground beneath them crumbling, even if they appear to be standing on ten feet of solid concrete. Unlike basketball or baseball, every professional football team has a realistic shot at the Super Bowl. How many Kurt Warner, Tom Brady stories are out there in basketball and baseball? How many running backs emerge from obscurity to rattle off a 1,500 yard, 12 touchdown season? The National Football League breeds parity. In baseball, even though there are teams like the Giants and the Rays who make a run, year in and year out the contenders are always the teams that spend money. In basketball, the notion is that teams need to take their “playoff lumps” and need to learn how to “win” in the playoffs. In football, everything from the past is thrown out and taken with a grain of salt. Random teams make unthinkable runs. Stars are born and stars die with reckless abandon. The football field is a battle field, and mental strength outweighs physical strength.
All 32 teams have a shot at being crowned champion. As unrealistic as that sounds, take the tormented Buffalo Bills, a team that may have finished in the bottom of the pile, but a team that nonetheless went toe-to-toe with countless playoff teams, and the only thing that separated glory from despair is those bad breaks that haunt every unlucky team, and luck goes hand-in-hand with strength. Every team that is able to stick around through the New Year has many instances of the ball bouncing the right way, a fumble bouncing right into the arms of a teammate, a punt resting perfectly inside the 5 yard line instead of squirming into the end zone. It's more than skill that separates the good from the bad, and the cliché “that's the way the ball bounces” rings true in the sport that features such an oblong ball. Lightning doesn't strike in the same place twice can be revamped for football speak into a football doesn't bounce the same way twice.
Is it even important to make predictions for the National Football League? If my predictions ring true is it something I can put on my resume for future sports writing jobs, saying that I've hammered 73% of my predictions year in and year out? In that case I should switch back to gambling on sports, which is something I'm definitely not opposed to now that I have steady money coming into my bank account.
I will say this though, I hope the Patriots win the Super Bowl, so Tom Brady can fully establish the claim as “Greatest Quarterback Ever”, which is something I will fully discuss at the proper time and place. I hope the Colts do terrible and Peyton Manning doesn't play, but not bad enough that they get the first pick and the rights to Andrew Luck. Then again, the Colts weren't very lucky, pun intended, the last time they tried taking the “sure-thing” quarterback prospect from Stanford. I have no hopes for the Vikings, and expect them to win 5 games this year and Adrian Peterson bolts in free agency. I hope Colin Kaepernick gets a chance to showcase the skills I've come to witness at Nevada. Other than that, the only thing I hope for from the NFL is that it continues the trend that it has established over the past decade: that each season is better than the last.
All 32 teams have a shot at being crowned champion. As unrealistic as that sounds, take the tormented Buffalo Bills, a team that may have finished in the bottom of the pile, but a team that nonetheless went toe-to-toe with countless playoff teams, and the only thing that separated glory from despair is those bad breaks that haunt every unlucky team, and luck goes hand-in-hand with strength. Every team that is able to stick around through the New Year has many instances of the ball bouncing the right way, a fumble bouncing right into the arms of a teammate, a punt resting perfectly inside the 5 yard line instead of squirming into the end zone. It's more than skill that separates the good from the bad, and the cliché “that's the way the ball bounces” rings true in the sport that features such an oblong ball. Lightning doesn't strike in the same place twice can be revamped for football speak into a football doesn't bounce the same way twice.
Is it even important to make predictions for the National Football League? If my predictions ring true is it something I can put on my resume for future sports writing jobs, saying that I've hammered 73% of my predictions year in and year out? In that case I should switch back to gambling on sports, which is something I'm definitely not opposed to now that I have steady money coming into my bank account.
I will say this though, I hope the Patriots win the Super Bowl, so Tom Brady can fully establish the claim as “Greatest Quarterback Ever”, which is something I will fully discuss at the proper time and place. I hope the Colts do terrible and Peyton Manning doesn't play, but not bad enough that they get the first pick and the rights to Andrew Luck. Then again, the Colts weren't very lucky, pun intended, the last time they tried taking the “sure-thing” quarterback prospect from Stanford. I have no hopes for the Vikings, and expect them to win 5 games this year and Adrian Peterson bolts in free agency. I hope Colin Kaepernick gets a chance to showcase the skills I've come to witness at Nevada. Other than that, the only thing I hope for from the NFL is that it continues the trend that it has established over the past decade: that each season is better than the last.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
College Football, and a new favorite
To paraphrase some Tecca Nina, it feels as though I haven't written in a column since 2001. Then again, I did write a few words on sports when I worked at the Elko Independent, so there's that. Anyway, I figured what better time to start up writing again right as the first week of college football wrapped up and the pros are starting in about fifty hours. Approximate from whenever you read this. This first column will be college football talk and I'll have my pro talk tomorrow.
First thing's first though, I would like to welcome myself onto the good graces of the Notre Dame bandwagon. Throughout the past, I've done nothing but hated on Notre Dame. I hated Charlie Weis, I hated Brady Quinn, I rejoiced when they lost. My vehement hatred peaked, or I guess for Notre Dame... whatever the opposite of peaked is, when Reggie Bush bulldozed Matt Leinart from behind into the end zone.
Why all this hate? I really have no viable explanation other than I loved going against not only one of my good friend's teams, but also her university. As my hatred mounted, what really gave way was my undeniable jealousy. I didn't hate Notre Dame, I was jealous that my friend went there.
Back to the story, I've always had a favorite team for professional sports. I even have a favorite Major League Soccer and English Premier league team, even if they are the Yankee/Cowboy version of soccer teams. I've always been a UNR fan (for the layperson that's University of Nevada-Reno), but I've always known there was no way that they could compete for a national title. So I found myself cheering almost objectively for the cream of the crop in college football and basketball, taking each game on a case-by-case basis and cheering for who my heart wanted to win, not to get all Notebook/Walk To Remember when talking about football.
About two and a half years ago, I blogged about my search for a favorite college basketball team. I settled on UCLA but that went about as well as... something that didn't go that well I guess (I'm definitely in mid-season form with my puns and metaphors here, maybe I should write more often...). That lead me to thinking, “Well, I don't really want to be a UCLA basketball fan and then have another college I root for solely for football.” My logic here was that it wasn't very logical to have to not only buy memorabilia from multiple colleges, but also have all of this memorabilia. I know I've been in college for a fairly long time, but still, my wardrobe shouldn't reflect that.
Of course, I will and forever be a huge UNR fan with anything they do. If I catch word about UNRs tiddly-winks team I'll cheer for them till my face turns blue. The point here is that I want to have my UNR homerism/fandom, because that not only reflects my love for the college and their athletics, but it also represents me being a true, blue and silver Nevadan (Sorry Vegas, but for one, even though your color scheme of red and silver kinda meshes, it definitely is not as good as blue and silver. Plus, UNRs, logo and jerseys altogether are some of the best in college sports. I'll match the Wolf Pack logo with any another big time school. It's just bad ass. Plus, even though Nevada's never really been this widely, successful athletic university, their jerseys and colors don't reflect that. It's not like they're hopping off the bus wearing Eastern Carolina uniforms with a logo that would come straight out of a fictional movie like New Mexico State's. Point being, if Nevada ever became a powerhouse like Boise, they have the logo and color scheme to at least look the part. Oh, and to complete my tangent, The Runnin' Rebels just sounds old. Vegas should take a page from the Tampa Bay Rays and call themselves the Las Vegas Rebels. Or take it a step further, as I suggested the Rays should just be the Tampa Rays, Vegas should be known simply as the Vegas Rebels).
Yes, UNR has had flashes in both football and basketball. I can remember the Kirk Snyder Sweet 16 run, the Nick Fazekas era and getting a top-25 ranking in basketball. Colin Kaepernick is my all-time favorite college football athlete ever. But all in all, UNR just isn't in that position to fully establish themselves in the world of college sports. Yes, Boise has, but I just don't think that UNR is in that position to take the steps that Boise made that led them to being a top-10 program.
Simply put, when it gets to January, I want to have a team that has a realistic shot at playing in a BCS bowl year in and year out. Take a quick look at a little over the past decade, which is about how long the BCS has ran. Ohio State has been around for the past decade. Florida State has at least been competitive. LSU, USC, Oklahoma, Virginia Tech, Florida, Texas and Auburn. There's nine teams off the top of my head (and I can only go off the top of my head for now cause I can't get on the internet while I'm writing this) that since the inception of the BCS have played in multiple BCS games or have at least had a shot at competing. Really only Florida State on that list is the only team that couldn't be grouped in the “Multiple BCS game” group. Nebraska is slowly making their way back there, and Penn State always is frisky for no reason other than it's Penn State and Joe Pa and they seem to either win double digit games or lose double digit games. I can realistically find a team that will be able to compete for at least a BCS bowl game, and that's not that bad of a let down considering the BCS can go any way. I don't want to have to pick a team and jump on the bandwagon each season. Wisconsin would have been my team for that this year. But where does that leave me? I hate bandwagon jumpers, but yet I've done nothing but jump on bandwagons following college sports.
Where does this leave basketball? Well, when it gets to March Madness, I want to have a team I can follow when it gets to March. Yes, there is nothing better than March Madness, and I think the entire GBC apartment complex can attest to just how crazy it got this past March (in an homage to Aqua Teen, we had the Quad-Screen going with four games on four different screens all going at once). But there was always something that felt a little distant. I would see those true fans sitting in the stands on TV with the same emotion that I used to have seeping through my pores during high school pep rallies.
I want that feeling again. I don't want to continually lie my head on my pillow wearing a USC, or Oklahoma, or Texas hat because those were the teams I picked to win a meaningless game, only to wake up feeling like I would after a one night stand. I want to go through the whole rigamarole that I do with my favorite professional teams, and experience the payoff at the end of following the team the entire season (Oh, wait, the closest I've had to experiencing the actual payoff from following a team unconditionally is when the Pens won the Stanley Cup a few years back, only now I'm basically in a coma waiting in limbo and the only way I'll come out of this coma is when Sid steps out on the ice for the first time in who knows how long). To quote Holden McNiel, “When, Lord, when? When's gonna be my time?!”
So that's my rationale for wanting to pick, what I call my “favorite team that actually has a shot at winning a championship with no disrespect to UNR because I'll love them forever” team. If that makes sense. Now that I've placed out my rationale and reasoning, which only has to make sense to me, I then had to pick a team. When it came to that, I'm a huge fan of tradition and history, as pointless as that may sound (let's face it look at how well baseball has fared following the “tradition and history” of the game”), I think it applies to individual sports team far more better than the sport itself. When I'm picking teams to start dynasties with on Madden or NBA 2K, I tend to pick teams that have been around for awhile and have some tradition and history. Case in point, I want to pick a college team that has some tradition and history. Sorry, Auburn, but you're just not that historical enough.
Is there any college team that has more tradition and history than Notre Dame? Of course with college football, but even basketball? Wait, does Notre Dame have tradition in basketball? Even if Notre Dame basketball has no tradition, the football program alone gets them a total score of 10/10 on my hypothetical scale.
Aside from tradition, I had a revelation and epiphany and a whatever other synonym for those two words when I was watching the Notre Dame/USF game. To explain this, I'll provide a little history lesson. A few years ago, I remember reading or hearing reports about how Florida State football recruits were able to D-Rose the system and get by the whole SAT/ACT scores and grades thing. Whatever that is. There were FSU football players who had IQ scores in the 70s. Well, that's definitely not something I would condone. Also, this whole Miami, Ohio State, Auburn scandal and issues really got my gears grinding. I would definitely not want to associate myself even as just a mere fan with football programs that are mired in controversies and scandals. And it's not like I'm even going to be a student at one of these schools, I'm just a fan.
Say what you want about the Catholic Church, but I just realized, during pregame of the Notre Dame/USF game, that they condone everything that I would in a university. Years from now, when I have a high profile football recruit as a son, or a few of them hopefully, I would want them to go to Notre Dame or a school like Notre Dame (that list for “schools like Notre Dame” is basically Notre Dame, Penn St or Stanford I guess). This is the football/basketball program for me. Plus they have bitchin outfits and logos.
Shoot, I've already attended some sort of rally for people who like Notre Dame or went to Notre Dame or are somehow associated with Notre Dame about five years ago in Reno. That's gotta count for something.
Quick Hits:
I wouldn't care if Boise St beat Georgia by 50, fact is, over the past two and a half years Georgia has been nothing but a .500, mediocre football team. 14-13 in their past 27 games. It's not like Boise was playing in Cowboys Stadium this past weekend against another top 5 team. Georgia's not even top 5 in their conference.
I apologize in advance for any Notre Dame fan, as teams/players that I'm fans of basically have derailed over the past few years. Joe Mauer's legs, Justin Morneau's entire body, Rubio is basically a back-up point-guard for a Big 10 team at this point, Sidney's head, Brett Favre. Let's just say I feel partly responsible for Notre Dame's performance, and I think it was Touchdown Jesus telling me personally to not root for Notre Dame with the whole lightning storm thing.
Would anyone believe me if I said that when I listed LSU as my Top-5 team that won't be ranked at the end of the season, that I actually debated pretty hard about listing that team as Oregon? It was basically going to be the loser of the LSU/Oregon game, and of course I thought Oregon was going to win, so therefore I listed LSU as that team, but I really did debate putting Oregon as that team.
Speaking of LSU, all you need to do to beat Oregon is match their speed, which is something that plenty of SEC teams can do. Auburn proved this. LSU strengthened the argument. Considering the Pac-12 isn't fielding the fastest teams, I think an asterisk needs to put on Oregon.
Having said that, let's not just so fast to ranking LSU 2nd in the land. Slow down. Oklahoma and Bama are at least, at this point, more stable than LSU is. Nobodies going to have a clue how those dudes who got arrested are going to affect the team from here on out.
Besides that, uh, I can't wait for the Notre Dame/Michigan match, as well as UNRs season opener.
First thing's first though, I would like to welcome myself onto the good graces of the Notre Dame bandwagon. Throughout the past, I've done nothing but hated on Notre Dame. I hated Charlie Weis, I hated Brady Quinn, I rejoiced when they lost. My vehement hatred peaked, or I guess for Notre Dame... whatever the opposite of peaked is, when Reggie Bush bulldozed Matt Leinart from behind into the end zone.
Why all this hate? I really have no viable explanation other than I loved going against not only one of my good friend's teams, but also her university. As my hatred mounted, what really gave way was my undeniable jealousy. I didn't hate Notre Dame, I was jealous that my friend went there.
Back to the story, I've always had a favorite team for professional sports. I even have a favorite Major League Soccer and English Premier league team, even if they are the Yankee/Cowboy version of soccer teams. I've always been a UNR fan (for the layperson that's University of Nevada-Reno), but I've always known there was no way that they could compete for a national title. So I found myself cheering almost objectively for the cream of the crop in college football and basketball, taking each game on a case-by-case basis and cheering for who my heart wanted to win, not to get all Notebook/Walk To Remember when talking about football.
About two and a half years ago, I blogged about my search for a favorite college basketball team. I settled on UCLA but that went about as well as... something that didn't go that well I guess (I'm definitely in mid-season form with my puns and metaphors here, maybe I should write more often...). That lead me to thinking, “Well, I don't really want to be a UCLA basketball fan and then have another college I root for solely for football.” My logic here was that it wasn't very logical to have to not only buy memorabilia from multiple colleges, but also have all of this memorabilia. I know I've been in college for a fairly long time, but still, my wardrobe shouldn't reflect that.
Of course, I will and forever be a huge UNR fan with anything they do. If I catch word about UNRs tiddly-winks team I'll cheer for them till my face turns blue. The point here is that I want to have my UNR homerism/fandom, because that not only reflects my love for the college and their athletics, but it also represents me being a true, blue and silver Nevadan (Sorry Vegas, but for one, even though your color scheme of red and silver kinda meshes, it definitely is not as good as blue and silver. Plus, UNRs, logo and jerseys altogether are some of the best in college sports. I'll match the Wolf Pack logo with any another big time school. It's just bad ass. Plus, even though Nevada's never really been this widely, successful athletic university, their jerseys and colors don't reflect that. It's not like they're hopping off the bus wearing Eastern Carolina uniforms with a logo that would come straight out of a fictional movie like New Mexico State's. Point being, if Nevada ever became a powerhouse like Boise, they have the logo and color scheme to at least look the part. Oh, and to complete my tangent, The Runnin' Rebels just sounds old. Vegas should take a page from the Tampa Bay Rays and call themselves the Las Vegas Rebels. Or take it a step further, as I suggested the Rays should just be the Tampa Rays, Vegas should be known simply as the Vegas Rebels).
Yes, UNR has had flashes in both football and basketball. I can remember the Kirk Snyder Sweet 16 run, the Nick Fazekas era and getting a top-25 ranking in basketball. Colin Kaepernick is my all-time favorite college football athlete ever. But all in all, UNR just isn't in that position to fully establish themselves in the world of college sports. Yes, Boise has, but I just don't think that UNR is in that position to take the steps that Boise made that led them to being a top-10 program.
Simply put, when it gets to January, I want to have a team that has a realistic shot at playing in a BCS bowl year in and year out. Take a quick look at a little over the past decade, which is about how long the BCS has ran. Ohio State has been around for the past decade. Florida State has at least been competitive. LSU, USC, Oklahoma, Virginia Tech, Florida, Texas and Auburn. There's nine teams off the top of my head (and I can only go off the top of my head for now cause I can't get on the internet while I'm writing this) that since the inception of the BCS have played in multiple BCS games or have at least had a shot at competing. Really only Florida State on that list is the only team that couldn't be grouped in the “Multiple BCS game” group. Nebraska is slowly making their way back there, and Penn State always is frisky for no reason other than it's Penn State and Joe Pa and they seem to either win double digit games or lose double digit games. I can realistically find a team that will be able to compete for at least a BCS bowl game, and that's not that bad of a let down considering the BCS can go any way. I don't want to have to pick a team and jump on the bandwagon each season. Wisconsin would have been my team for that this year. But where does that leave me? I hate bandwagon jumpers, but yet I've done nothing but jump on bandwagons following college sports.
Where does this leave basketball? Well, when it gets to March Madness, I want to have a team I can follow when it gets to March. Yes, there is nothing better than March Madness, and I think the entire GBC apartment complex can attest to just how crazy it got this past March (in an homage to Aqua Teen, we had the Quad-Screen going with four games on four different screens all going at once). But there was always something that felt a little distant. I would see those true fans sitting in the stands on TV with the same emotion that I used to have seeping through my pores during high school pep rallies.
I want that feeling again. I don't want to continually lie my head on my pillow wearing a USC, or Oklahoma, or Texas hat because those were the teams I picked to win a meaningless game, only to wake up feeling like I would after a one night stand. I want to go through the whole rigamarole that I do with my favorite professional teams, and experience the payoff at the end of following the team the entire season (Oh, wait, the closest I've had to experiencing the actual payoff from following a team unconditionally is when the Pens won the Stanley Cup a few years back, only now I'm basically in a coma waiting in limbo and the only way I'll come out of this coma is when Sid steps out on the ice for the first time in who knows how long). To quote Holden McNiel, “When, Lord, when? When's gonna be my time?!”
So that's my rationale for wanting to pick, what I call my “favorite team that actually has a shot at winning a championship with no disrespect to UNR because I'll love them forever” team. If that makes sense. Now that I've placed out my rationale and reasoning, which only has to make sense to me, I then had to pick a team. When it came to that, I'm a huge fan of tradition and history, as pointless as that may sound (let's face it look at how well baseball has fared following the “tradition and history” of the game”), I think it applies to individual sports team far more better than the sport itself. When I'm picking teams to start dynasties with on Madden or NBA 2K, I tend to pick teams that have been around for awhile and have some tradition and history. Case in point, I want to pick a college team that has some tradition and history. Sorry, Auburn, but you're just not that historical enough.
Is there any college team that has more tradition and history than Notre Dame? Of course with college football, but even basketball? Wait, does Notre Dame have tradition in basketball? Even if Notre Dame basketball has no tradition, the football program alone gets them a total score of 10/10 on my hypothetical scale.
Aside from tradition, I had a revelation and epiphany and a whatever other synonym for those two words when I was watching the Notre Dame/USF game. To explain this, I'll provide a little history lesson. A few years ago, I remember reading or hearing reports about how Florida State football recruits were able to D-Rose the system and get by the whole SAT/ACT scores and grades thing. Whatever that is. There were FSU football players who had IQ scores in the 70s. Well, that's definitely not something I would condone. Also, this whole Miami, Ohio State, Auburn scandal and issues really got my gears grinding. I would definitely not want to associate myself even as just a mere fan with football programs that are mired in controversies and scandals. And it's not like I'm even going to be a student at one of these schools, I'm just a fan.
Say what you want about the Catholic Church, but I just realized, during pregame of the Notre Dame/USF game, that they condone everything that I would in a university. Years from now, when I have a high profile football recruit as a son, or a few of them hopefully, I would want them to go to Notre Dame or a school like Notre Dame (that list for “schools like Notre Dame” is basically Notre Dame, Penn St or Stanford I guess). This is the football/basketball program for me. Plus they have bitchin outfits and logos.
Shoot, I've already attended some sort of rally for people who like Notre Dame or went to Notre Dame or are somehow associated with Notre Dame about five years ago in Reno. That's gotta count for something.
Quick Hits:
I wouldn't care if Boise St beat Georgia by 50, fact is, over the past two and a half years Georgia has been nothing but a .500, mediocre football team. 14-13 in their past 27 games. It's not like Boise was playing in Cowboys Stadium this past weekend against another top 5 team. Georgia's not even top 5 in their conference.
I apologize in advance for any Notre Dame fan, as teams/players that I'm fans of basically have derailed over the past few years. Joe Mauer's legs, Justin Morneau's entire body, Rubio is basically a back-up point-guard for a Big 10 team at this point, Sidney's head, Brett Favre. Let's just say I feel partly responsible for Notre Dame's performance, and I think it was Touchdown Jesus telling me personally to not root for Notre Dame with the whole lightning storm thing.
Would anyone believe me if I said that when I listed LSU as my Top-5 team that won't be ranked at the end of the season, that I actually debated pretty hard about listing that team as Oregon? It was basically going to be the loser of the LSU/Oregon game, and of course I thought Oregon was going to win, so therefore I listed LSU as that team, but I really did debate putting Oregon as that team.
Speaking of LSU, all you need to do to beat Oregon is match their speed, which is something that plenty of SEC teams can do. Auburn proved this. LSU strengthened the argument. Considering the Pac-12 isn't fielding the fastest teams, I think an asterisk needs to put on Oregon.
Having said that, let's not just so fast to ranking LSU 2nd in the land. Slow down. Oklahoma and Bama are at least, at this point, more stable than LSU is. Nobodies going to have a clue how those dudes who got arrested are going to affect the team from here on out.
Besides that, uh, I can't wait for the Notre Dame/Michigan match, as well as UNRs season opener.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Baseball's Free Market Essay
Picture this: it is right around Labor Day in the fall of 2011. Millions of people around the country are tuning their television sets, well, maybe not tune, but positioning their expensive satellites to the right angles so that the right signal is beamed down to their house from either the FOX or CBS station. It’s anywhere from 10 am to 1 pm depending on the time zone. Millions of bags of chips are open. Millions of cans or bottles of beer or pop are cracked. Millions of grills are fired up throughout the nation roasting hot dogs, hamburgers, bratwursts and other kinds of meat products. All of this, just so millions of people can watch… a cooking show?
That’s the reality that millions of people will be facing a year and a half from now if the National Football League doesn’t reach an agreement on a new collective bargaining agreement. What is a collective bargaining agreement? Collective bargaining agreements are an explicit employment contract negotiated by a labor union and employers who employ the union members (Niznik 1). The definition goes on to further state that collective bargaining agreements, or CBAs, are typically renegotiated periodically. That’s easy to agree with. The game changes, the sports changes, the players change, things change. It would be ridiculous for sports teams, especially those in the NFL, to operate under the same rules that they did in 1966. If that were the case, brain dead athletes in their 60s would be left with no retirement benefit packages and once the game is done with them, the game is done with them (not like that doesn’t happen already nowadays).
Fast forward about a month and a half to the end of October. There is a considerable amount less flair, and this same time period doesn’t have the same type of gusto as the one around Labor Day did. There are still millions around the nation and world tuned in though as another sport looks to kick off its new season. Normally the way this sport is structured is that the champions from the prior year play the first game of the season and receive their championship rings before the game. But, the millions of people around the world expecting to see the Los Angeles Lakers or Boston Celtics receive their diamond encrusted victory prizes are left with a rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond.
The NFL isn’t the only sport that is going through an intense renegotiating phase of their collective bargaining agreements. The National Basketball Association is going through the same exact thing. The story is the same in both sports: Owners want to make more money than they currently do, they want to be protected from making dumb decisions and they want a limit on the length and money of guaranteed contracts. NBA commissioner David Stern has said that the NBA as a whole will lose at least $400 million this season, and it is believed that at least 25 of the NBA’s 30 teams will lose money (Tomasson 1). When the market was thriving, owners spent like kings, throwing big dollars around to players who didn’t deserve half of what they got. Fast forward a few years, and these players who got six-year, multimillion dollar deals are just about finishing off their contracts, many of which don't even play for the team that signed them to the big money deals, many of which are sitting at home and collecting paychecks without having to do any work.
The NFL has similar problems, but their biggest problem is invested in doling out huge contracts to rookie players that have never played a down in the professional ranks. “So you’re a highly touted college player, one of, if not the best, players to play in the college ranks last year? Sounds great! We’ll give you a six-year deal worth $60 million, $25 million which is guaranteed! Hopefully you pan out, because if you don’t our franchise will be stuck picking in the top five of the draft every year until we can get rid of you.” That’s how the NFL works. While pro football is the only sport that doesn’t guarantee their contracts, there is a problem when baby-faced rookies are stepping out of the classrooms into the film rooms and making more than players who have been in the league for ten years. Oh, that and the owners want more money in their pocket.
Each system needs to be fixed, or tweaked, a decent amount. There’s no feeling like seeing your team pay an average player $11 million per year for five years when that player is only worth about $6 million. Just ask Pistons fans how they feel about Ben Gordon and Charlie Villanueva. If the auto-industry wasn’t enough for Detroit, they’re now stuck watching below-average basketball for the next few years. But the question is does each of these systems, which hampers each team with salary caps that restrict how much money you can pay your team in totality and which are socialistic in nature, need to be fixed or tweaked? Or is it that these systems need to be changed entirely?
There is another sport that has their collective bargaining agreement expire the same time period as football and basketball, but yet, nobody has really heard a peep out of that sport. Yes, baseball, the only true free market, capitalistic system in American sports. The MLB isn’t currently mired in tension and anxiety about whether or not they will play their season after this next year. The funny thing is, the biggest thing baseball is criticized for is for not being more like football or basketball. Why is that? Why is that the same person who would rather move his entire family a thousand miles away to a different town so he could make $20 grand extra per year criticizes the player who ditches his current team to sign a contract worth $2 million more per year? Isn't that the goal preached by many in the field of business ethics?
Another critique of baseball is that the playing field is often uneven when it comes to free agency. Teams in small markets often feel the pressure to resign very talented players from their fan bases, but often times they can't match the higher salaries that other clubs can provide. Basically every fan is worried about their top players becoming free agents because teams like the New York Yankees or Boston Red Sox have almost an unlimited amount of money they can spend. The Yankees spend more money paying their top three players than nine teams pay their entire roster. This sentiment isn't felt only be fans either, recently the Milwaukee Brewer's general manager went on a tangent about how it's going to be difficult resigning their best player, Prince Fielder, when the Yankees can offer him $30 million more over the same time span.
But isn't that what America is about? Isn't it about finding the best paying job? Murray Rothbard wrote that “it is to everyone’s self-interest to maximize his monetary income on the market” and that at the end of the day, “we cannot criticize the pursuit of monetary income on the market” (Rothbard 224). Rothbard also dissects the notion of taking a lower-paying job, calling it leisurely for the person to do so. He used an example of a coal miner who shifts to a more pleasant and easier job that pays less money. In the realm of sports, at first glance it would appear that it is just sports, as in the person goes out and plays the game. That is not so, as more and more research is being done in dissecting this world of sports, a lot of things are taken into consideration. The one to use in this example would be the break-down of a person's psyche. It is much easier and less stressful on a player if he plays in say Kansas City where there is less pressure on the team to perform well compared to New York. Some player's cannot handle that everyday psychological grind that the New York media gives and that the New York fan base gives. It would be much more leisurely for a player to play in Kansas City than it is playing in New York. And as Rothbard puts it, “every hour spent in leisure reduces the time a man can spend serving his fellows” (Rothbard 226). In sports sense, that could range from driving the market price up for other players that have a comparable skill set to helping another team win more games.
Now, what exactly is this free market system and how is baseball the best example of the free market system? A free market is defined as a business governed by the laws of supply and demand, not restrained by government interference, regulation or subsidy. Milton Friedman was a great proponent of the free market. Economist Isaac M. Morehouse summed up Friedman's life by saying Friedman “dedicated his life to fighting not just for the free market, but for freer markets. Friedman knew that government planners could never improve our economy by changing the rules for some, by limiting free trade and competition or by planning how every detail of the market should function. Friedman knew that in order to achieve their full potential, individuals need to be free to try and fail, or succeed, and to enjoy the fruits of their success” (Morehouse 1).
Baseball thus would be the freest market in Friedman's sense compared to the other sports. In the analogy between sports and real life, the players are the citizens while the team owners are the government. The owners basically dictate how their sport will be played, as they are the ones who finance everything and created the leagues that we have today. If it weren't for the owners, there would be no NFL, NBA, or MLB and sports would be left to play up until the college level and players would never be able to move from amateur to professional, left to play as recreational activities. In that sense, if it wasn't for government, people would be left in an anarchist state having to fend for themselves and there would be no order, responsibility or authority. While the basic feeling between the common man is “let the players play” in a sense regarding not only sports but business as well with little interference from the owners or government, like or not there needs to be that God-like figure to guide both realms.
Now that what constitutes what a professional sport is, baseball is the freest market based on how it is run. Bringing the definition of a free market back into mind, it is a system of supply and demand without government interference. The supply and demand aspect comes from teams being able to employ the players that they need. Each year there are handfuls of free agents that had their contracts expire. They are now in the market for a new contract, whether that new contract comes from his previous employer or a new employer is irrelevant. Of the thirty teams, each team obviously has certain demands they need and look to free agency to fill these demands. It is also irrelevant whether the team is looking to fill a void created by a player whose contract had expired or if the team is looking to upgrade a certain position, as there could be players available that perform their job better than the players that the team currently employs.
Now, what makes baseball the greatest advocate of the free market is that of the thirty teams, there are no restrictions or restraints whatsoever that dictate how a team can sign a player. Currently the highest paid player in the game is Alex Rodriguez who gets paid $33 million per year. Ironically, Rodriguez by himself almost equals the entire payroll of two teams, falling $2 million short of the Pittsburgh Pirates and $5 million short of the San Diego Padres. A team can pay their players an average $1.5 million or it can pay its players an average of $8 million and they still can compete. Money spent on players is not an indicator of success. The New York Mets and Chicago Cubs are routinely in the top five of payroll of the 30 teams year in and year out and neither team has won a championship in years.
Conversely, success is not always dictated by championships. To the average fan, yes they would love to see their team win the championship. But what dictates success for a team like the Yankees who always expect to win a championship every year is different from the expectations of say the Pittsburgh Pirates who may look at the season as a success if they only win more games than they did last year. The great thing about sports and how it relates the free market system is that the free market is run by competition. To some, sports are the ultimate competition. A championship is always the ends that a team aims for, so the actions that a team takes are always with a championship in mind.
For the common business model, the definition of “winner” and “loser” is not always as clear cut as a sport’s box score. As Morehouse points out, “there is, however, one major difference between baseball and the free market: In baseball, there is only one winner. The free market is completely different. If left free from government intervention, markets are not a zero sum game. Despite what the movie "Wall Street" says, when someone wins in a free market, nobody has to lose” (Morehouse 1). What Morehouse does fail to point out though is that not every team is uses wins and losses as a meter of success. Taking the Pittsburgh Pirates again and using them as an example, while aforementioned they may be looking to gauge the success of their season based on if they win more games than they did last year, but that may not be the case. Maybe they are looking to promote the progression of their players, as in if their players perform better than they did last year. Every business promotes job efficiency, because employees who perform their job better are better for the company as a whole. So while the Pirates may lose more games than they did last year, they could easily view the success of the season based on if their players performed better than they did in the previous year.
Going back to the free agency model used in baseball and how it promotes the free market system, it also promotes classical individualism in the sense that players can do what is best for them. Usually what they ought to do in regards to what is best is promoted by the system. The one thing that fans try to promote is altruism throughout sports. They want to see their favorite players stay loyal to their favorite teams. Fans hate seeing players from their teams jump ship and chase the almighty dollar. This is truer in baseball than in any other sport because there isn't a limit on salary that a team can pay. Fans expect their players to live by an altruistic code for no other reason than because they grow attached to them. Do fans of the banking industry or law practices have favorite banks or law firms that they root for? Do they have favorite bankers or lawyers that they want to see perform well? Would they feel the same taste of betrayal from these bankers or lawyers if they were to switch banks or law firms? Of course not.
Altruism doesn't have a place in sports just as it doesn't have a place from an ethical standpoint in business. The selfish acts from fans in wanting their star players to remain loyal to their favorite team aren’t altruistic at all. While from a moral standpoint it looks great on paper when star athletes leave money on the table and play for “the love of the game”. In reality, that hardly ever happens. When a player is altruistic and remains loyal to a team, usually it comes at a steep price. For example, the Minnesota Twins recently signed star catcher Joe Mauer to a ten-year contract extension that will pay him $18 to $20 million per year for the next ten years. For the past years, Minnesota has been a team that averaged $65 million per year in player salary. If they expected to sign Mauer to this extension, they would have expected to raise their payroll in order to stay competitive. If they expected to pay Mauer $20 million per year and kept their salary around $65 million, it limits how successful the team can be as they would then have to sign players of lesser value because they demand lesser money. So while Mauer could be looked at as being “altruistic”, in the end his selfish desires to remain loyal to his current team would have ended up hurting the team in the long run. That is of course if the Twins didn't increase player salary, which is what they did by $30 million. In reverse, the Twins organization was acting in the classical individualism mindset, doing what was best for them, and ironically it came at a cheaper price than it would have for other teams because the player in question was acting altruistically.
Now, in comparing the free market, supply and demand, capitalism promoting system of baseball with the other two popular sports, football and basketball, baseball shows why it is the best free market sport in America. First, in football each team only has X amount of dollars it can spend. There is a hard salary cap that each team cannot exceed, but there isn't a limit on how much a player can make in a season. So throughout football free agency, players cannot freely sign with teams. While players are still apt to sign with the best possible situation and the situation that promotes classical individualism, it technically isn't the actual “best” situation.
For instance, while a player can sign with the team that offers them the most money at the time, that team may not be the best team for the player in the long run. Say a player, a running-back, signs a one year deal with a team for $10 million. Say this team doesn't run the ball as often as the player would like, and his stats go down. At the end of his contract, his value is going to go down because his value is tied directly with his performance. When he enters free agency after the season, he may only be able to sign a deal worth $8 million for the year. Because the year before he signed with the team that offered him the most money, it resulted in the player getting less money the following year. Now, if players and teams weren't restricted by salary caps, this player could have signed with a team that ran the ball more often, resulting in the player attaining more stats which would then drive his value up, resulting in the player being more valuable. Football does not promote a free market system whatsoever, as the government, aka the owners, have perpetuated a system that doesn't resemble a free market at all. Instead, it advocates a utilitarianism society that promotes equality and strives for the overall happiness through the league, as time and time again teams have lost ten games one year and won ten games the next year.
One thing the football system has is the non-guaranteed contracts. If there is a free agent the team wants to sign but isn't able to do so because of salary cap implications, the team can easily release players from their contracts to free up money. This is different from the other sports as contracts are guaranteed and teams must pay out those contracts.
In basketball, the system takes some explaining to do. There is a limit to how much a player can make, and that amount is based on a player's tenure in the league. There isn't a limit on team salary, but in order for a team to be able to sign free agents the team's salary must be under a certain limit. For example, if a team wanted to sign a player to a $10 million deal, they must be at least $10 million under the salary limit. Also, basketball has a system that promotes the altruistic nature of the fans, as teams are able to re-sign their players for more money than other teams are able to sign them for. So while there is a limit to how to how much a player can make, the limit increases for the team the player currently plays for. For example, while the Lakers can re-sign Kobe Bryant for $25 million per year, every other team in the league can only offer to sign Bryant for close to $20 million per year.
One thing that basketball teams can't do is release players. They must pay out the remainder of the contracts, or they can offer to buy out the player's contract for a certain price. So while football teams can easily cut players so they can sign others, basketball teams cannot do this. A player who is released by the team still has his salary counted against the team's salary.
In breaking down basketball, it places a limit on how much a player can make which is far different from the other two major sports. It also places a limit on where players can sign. While on the surface it may look to be most beneficial for a player to re-sign with his current team in order to gain more money and to promote classical individualism, it may not be the best option. One thing that isn't emphasized is endorsement deals players get. Different companies who use athletes to promote their products would much rather have those players play in major cities and major television markets because those places offer more exposure. Therefore, players who play in major television markets get bigger endorsement deals.
In conclusion, baseball time and time again shows that it promotes the free market system and the free market system that Milton Friedman envisioned. It also promotes to the fullest extent classical individualism. It is the only sport that doesn't put a limit on how much an individual can make in salary, and it also doesn't place a limit on where an individual can play. Sports are also far more than just competition as the major sports, as illustrated, provides examples of different economical structures and ethical break-downs.
That’s the reality that millions of people will be facing a year and a half from now if the National Football League doesn’t reach an agreement on a new collective bargaining agreement. What is a collective bargaining agreement? Collective bargaining agreements are an explicit employment contract negotiated by a labor union and employers who employ the union members (Niznik 1). The definition goes on to further state that collective bargaining agreements, or CBAs, are typically renegotiated periodically. That’s easy to agree with. The game changes, the sports changes, the players change, things change. It would be ridiculous for sports teams, especially those in the NFL, to operate under the same rules that they did in 1966. If that were the case, brain dead athletes in their 60s would be left with no retirement benefit packages and once the game is done with them, the game is done with them (not like that doesn’t happen already nowadays).
Fast forward about a month and a half to the end of October. There is a considerable amount less flair, and this same time period doesn’t have the same type of gusto as the one around Labor Day did. There are still millions around the nation and world tuned in though as another sport looks to kick off its new season. Normally the way this sport is structured is that the champions from the prior year play the first game of the season and receive their championship rings before the game. But, the millions of people around the world expecting to see the Los Angeles Lakers or Boston Celtics receive their diamond encrusted victory prizes are left with a rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond.
The NFL isn’t the only sport that is going through an intense renegotiating phase of their collective bargaining agreements. The National Basketball Association is going through the same exact thing. The story is the same in both sports: Owners want to make more money than they currently do, they want to be protected from making dumb decisions and they want a limit on the length and money of guaranteed contracts. NBA commissioner David Stern has said that the NBA as a whole will lose at least $400 million this season, and it is believed that at least 25 of the NBA’s 30 teams will lose money (Tomasson 1). When the market was thriving, owners spent like kings, throwing big dollars around to players who didn’t deserve half of what they got. Fast forward a few years, and these players who got six-year, multimillion dollar deals are just about finishing off their contracts, many of which don't even play for the team that signed them to the big money deals, many of which are sitting at home and collecting paychecks without having to do any work.
The NFL has similar problems, but their biggest problem is invested in doling out huge contracts to rookie players that have never played a down in the professional ranks. “So you’re a highly touted college player, one of, if not the best, players to play in the college ranks last year? Sounds great! We’ll give you a six-year deal worth $60 million, $25 million which is guaranteed! Hopefully you pan out, because if you don’t our franchise will be stuck picking in the top five of the draft every year until we can get rid of you.” That’s how the NFL works. While pro football is the only sport that doesn’t guarantee their contracts, there is a problem when baby-faced rookies are stepping out of the classrooms into the film rooms and making more than players who have been in the league for ten years. Oh, that and the owners want more money in their pocket.
Each system needs to be fixed, or tweaked, a decent amount. There’s no feeling like seeing your team pay an average player $11 million per year for five years when that player is only worth about $6 million. Just ask Pistons fans how they feel about Ben Gordon and Charlie Villanueva. If the auto-industry wasn’t enough for Detroit, they’re now stuck watching below-average basketball for the next few years. But the question is does each of these systems, which hampers each team with salary caps that restrict how much money you can pay your team in totality and which are socialistic in nature, need to be fixed or tweaked? Or is it that these systems need to be changed entirely?
There is another sport that has their collective bargaining agreement expire the same time period as football and basketball, but yet, nobody has really heard a peep out of that sport. Yes, baseball, the only true free market, capitalistic system in American sports. The MLB isn’t currently mired in tension and anxiety about whether or not they will play their season after this next year. The funny thing is, the biggest thing baseball is criticized for is for not being more like football or basketball. Why is that? Why is that the same person who would rather move his entire family a thousand miles away to a different town so he could make $20 grand extra per year criticizes the player who ditches his current team to sign a contract worth $2 million more per year? Isn't that the goal preached by many in the field of business ethics?
Another critique of baseball is that the playing field is often uneven when it comes to free agency. Teams in small markets often feel the pressure to resign very talented players from their fan bases, but often times they can't match the higher salaries that other clubs can provide. Basically every fan is worried about their top players becoming free agents because teams like the New York Yankees or Boston Red Sox have almost an unlimited amount of money they can spend. The Yankees spend more money paying their top three players than nine teams pay their entire roster. This sentiment isn't felt only be fans either, recently the Milwaukee Brewer's general manager went on a tangent about how it's going to be difficult resigning their best player, Prince Fielder, when the Yankees can offer him $30 million more over the same time span.
But isn't that what America is about? Isn't it about finding the best paying job? Murray Rothbard wrote that “it is to everyone’s self-interest to maximize his monetary income on the market” and that at the end of the day, “we cannot criticize the pursuit of monetary income on the market” (Rothbard 224). Rothbard also dissects the notion of taking a lower-paying job, calling it leisurely for the person to do so. He used an example of a coal miner who shifts to a more pleasant and easier job that pays less money. In the realm of sports, at first glance it would appear that it is just sports, as in the person goes out and plays the game. That is not so, as more and more research is being done in dissecting this world of sports, a lot of things are taken into consideration. The one to use in this example would be the break-down of a person's psyche. It is much easier and less stressful on a player if he plays in say Kansas City where there is less pressure on the team to perform well compared to New York. Some player's cannot handle that everyday psychological grind that the New York media gives and that the New York fan base gives. It would be much more leisurely for a player to play in Kansas City than it is playing in New York. And as Rothbard puts it, “every hour spent in leisure reduces the time a man can spend serving his fellows” (Rothbard 226). In sports sense, that could range from driving the market price up for other players that have a comparable skill set to helping another team win more games.
Now, what exactly is this free market system and how is baseball the best example of the free market system? A free market is defined as a business governed by the laws of supply and demand, not restrained by government interference, regulation or subsidy. Milton Friedman was a great proponent of the free market. Economist Isaac M. Morehouse summed up Friedman's life by saying Friedman “dedicated his life to fighting not just for the free market, but for freer markets. Friedman knew that government planners could never improve our economy by changing the rules for some, by limiting free trade and competition or by planning how every detail of the market should function. Friedman knew that in order to achieve their full potential, individuals need to be free to try and fail, or succeed, and to enjoy the fruits of their success” (Morehouse 1).
Baseball thus would be the freest market in Friedman's sense compared to the other sports. In the analogy between sports and real life, the players are the citizens while the team owners are the government. The owners basically dictate how their sport will be played, as they are the ones who finance everything and created the leagues that we have today. If it weren't for the owners, there would be no NFL, NBA, or MLB and sports would be left to play up until the college level and players would never be able to move from amateur to professional, left to play as recreational activities. In that sense, if it wasn't for government, people would be left in an anarchist state having to fend for themselves and there would be no order, responsibility or authority. While the basic feeling between the common man is “let the players play” in a sense regarding not only sports but business as well with little interference from the owners or government, like or not there needs to be that God-like figure to guide both realms.
Now that what constitutes what a professional sport is, baseball is the freest market based on how it is run. Bringing the definition of a free market back into mind, it is a system of supply and demand without government interference. The supply and demand aspect comes from teams being able to employ the players that they need. Each year there are handfuls of free agents that had their contracts expire. They are now in the market for a new contract, whether that new contract comes from his previous employer or a new employer is irrelevant. Of the thirty teams, each team obviously has certain demands they need and look to free agency to fill these demands. It is also irrelevant whether the team is looking to fill a void created by a player whose contract had expired or if the team is looking to upgrade a certain position, as there could be players available that perform their job better than the players that the team currently employs.
Now, what makes baseball the greatest advocate of the free market is that of the thirty teams, there are no restrictions or restraints whatsoever that dictate how a team can sign a player. Currently the highest paid player in the game is Alex Rodriguez who gets paid $33 million per year. Ironically, Rodriguez by himself almost equals the entire payroll of two teams, falling $2 million short of the Pittsburgh Pirates and $5 million short of the San Diego Padres. A team can pay their players an average $1.5 million or it can pay its players an average of $8 million and they still can compete. Money spent on players is not an indicator of success. The New York Mets and Chicago Cubs are routinely in the top five of payroll of the 30 teams year in and year out and neither team has won a championship in years.
Conversely, success is not always dictated by championships. To the average fan, yes they would love to see their team win the championship. But what dictates success for a team like the Yankees who always expect to win a championship every year is different from the expectations of say the Pittsburgh Pirates who may look at the season as a success if they only win more games than they did last year. The great thing about sports and how it relates the free market system is that the free market is run by competition. To some, sports are the ultimate competition. A championship is always the ends that a team aims for, so the actions that a team takes are always with a championship in mind.
For the common business model, the definition of “winner” and “loser” is not always as clear cut as a sport’s box score. As Morehouse points out, “there is, however, one major difference between baseball and the free market: In baseball, there is only one winner. The free market is completely different. If left free from government intervention, markets are not a zero sum game. Despite what the movie "Wall Street" says, when someone wins in a free market, nobody has to lose” (Morehouse 1). What Morehouse does fail to point out though is that not every team is uses wins and losses as a meter of success. Taking the Pittsburgh Pirates again and using them as an example, while aforementioned they may be looking to gauge the success of their season based on if they win more games than they did last year, but that may not be the case. Maybe they are looking to promote the progression of their players, as in if their players perform better than they did last year. Every business promotes job efficiency, because employees who perform their job better are better for the company as a whole. So while the Pirates may lose more games than they did last year, they could easily view the success of the season based on if their players performed better than they did in the previous year.
Going back to the free agency model used in baseball and how it promotes the free market system, it also promotes classical individualism in the sense that players can do what is best for them. Usually what they ought to do in regards to what is best is promoted by the system. The one thing that fans try to promote is altruism throughout sports. They want to see their favorite players stay loyal to their favorite teams. Fans hate seeing players from their teams jump ship and chase the almighty dollar. This is truer in baseball than in any other sport because there isn't a limit on salary that a team can pay. Fans expect their players to live by an altruistic code for no other reason than because they grow attached to them. Do fans of the banking industry or law practices have favorite banks or law firms that they root for? Do they have favorite bankers or lawyers that they want to see perform well? Would they feel the same taste of betrayal from these bankers or lawyers if they were to switch banks or law firms? Of course not.
Altruism doesn't have a place in sports just as it doesn't have a place from an ethical standpoint in business. The selfish acts from fans in wanting their star players to remain loyal to their favorite team aren’t altruistic at all. While from a moral standpoint it looks great on paper when star athletes leave money on the table and play for “the love of the game”. In reality, that hardly ever happens. When a player is altruistic and remains loyal to a team, usually it comes at a steep price. For example, the Minnesota Twins recently signed star catcher Joe Mauer to a ten-year contract extension that will pay him $18 to $20 million per year for the next ten years. For the past years, Minnesota has been a team that averaged $65 million per year in player salary. If they expected to sign Mauer to this extension, they would have expected to raise their payroll in order to stay competitive. If they expected to pay Mauer $20 million per year and kept their salary around $65 million, it limits how successful the team can be as they would then have to sign players of lesser value because they demand lesser money. So while Mauer could be looked at as being “altruistic”, in the end his selfish desires to remain loyal to his current team would have ended up hurting the team in the long run. That is of course if the Twins didn't increase player salary, which is what they did by $30 million. In reverse, the Twins organization was acting in the classical individualism mindset, doing what was best for them, and ironically it came at a cheaper price than it would have for other teams because the player in question was acting altruistically.
Now, in comparing the free market, supply and demand, capitalism promoting system of baseball with the other two popular sports, football and basketball, baseball shows why it is the best free market sport in America. First, in football each team only has X amount of dollars it can spend. There is a hard salary cap that each team cannot exceed, but there isn't a limit on how much a player can make in a season. So throughout football free agency, players cannot freely sign with teams. While players are still apt to sign with the best possible situation and the situation that promotes classical individualism, it technically isn't the actual “best” situation.
For instance, while a player can sign with the team that offers them the most money at the time, that team may not be the best team for the player in the long run. Say a player, a running-back, signs a one year deal with a team for $10 million. Say this team doesn't run the ball as often as the player would like, and his stats go down. At the end of his contract, his value is going to go down because his value is tied directly with his performance. When he enters free agency after the season, he may only be able to sign a deal worth $8 million for the year. Because the year before he signed with the team that offered him the most money, it resulted in the player getting less money the following year. Now, if players and teams weren't restricted by salary caps, this player could have signed with a team that ran the ball more often, resulting in the player attaining more stats which would then drive his value up, resulting in the player being more valuable. Football does not promote a free market system whatsoever, as the government, aka the owners, have perpetuated a system that doesn't resemble a free market at all. Instead, it advocates a utilitarianism society that promotes equality and strives for the overall happiness through the league, as time and time again teams have lost ten games one year and won ten games the next year.
One thing the football system has is the non-guaranteed contracts. If there is a free agent the team wants to sign but isn't able to do so because of salary cap implications, the team can easily release players from their contracts to free up money. This is different from the other sports as contracts are guaranteed and teams must pay out those contracts.
In basketball, the system takes some explaining to do. There is a limit to how much a player can make, and that amount is based on a player's tenure in the league. There isn't a limit on team salary, but in order for a team to be able to sign free agents the team's salary must be under a certain limit. For example, if a team wanted to sign a player to a $10 million deal, they must be at least $10 million under the salary limit. Also, basketball has a system that promotes the altruistic nature of the fans, as teams are able to re-sign their players for more money than other teams are able to sign them for. So while there is a limit to how to how much a player can make, the limit increases for the team the player currently plays for. For example, while the Lakers can re-sign Kobe Bryant for $25 million per year, every other team in the league can only offer to sign Bryant for close to $20 million per year.
One thing that basketball teams can't do is release players. They must pay out the remainder of the contracts, or they can offer to buy out the player's contract for a certain price. So while football teams can easily cut players so they can sign others, basketball teams cannot do this. A player who is released by the team still has his salary counted against the team's salary.
In breaking down basketball, it places a limit on how much a player can make which is far different from the other two major sports. It also places a limit on where players can sign. While on the surface it may look to be most beneficial for a player to re-sign with his current team in order to gain more money and to promote classical individualism, it may not be the best option. One thing that isn't emphasized is endorsement deals players get. Different companies who use athletes to promote their products would much rather have those players play in major cities and major television markets because those places offer more exposure. Therefore, players who play in major television markets get bigger endorsement deals.
In conclusion, baseball time and time again shows that it promotes the free market system and the free market system that Milton Friedman envisioned. It also promotes to the fullest extent classical individualism. It is the only sport that doesn't put a limit on how much an individual can make in salary, and it also doesn't place a limit on where an individual can play. Sports are also far more than just competition as the major sports, as illustrated, provides examples of different economical structures and ethical break-downs.
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