Playing the Air Game (+audio)

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“Let’s go, Army! Let’s go!”
“Down in front!”
I stand all of five-four in my boots. Me blocking any portion of the game projected on the hangar’s back wall wasn’t enough to matter.
“Looney gal!”
“You bet!” I shouted back at the next heckler. You had to be some kind of nutcase if you still were rooting for the US Army Black Knights in this game. Only the second quarter and the Navy Midshipmen team was whupping their asses something serious. Twenty-zip wasn’t a score, it was a Shakespearean tragedy, maybe even a Greek one. We hadn’t once gotten close enough to see the End Zone over the horizon, never mind reach it. Not as painful as watching the Dodgers trounce my SF Giants across nine innings as often as they had the last handful of years—utterly brutal to be a true fan these days—but not so fine either.
“Let’s go, Army! Let’s go!”
No one else joined in on the cheer. Wish I had my big old college marching euphonium. I’d hit them with a roar to shake their very bones (not like those lame high-brass B♭ cornets or, even worse, trumpety things). Took them a year after I dropped out to figure out that maybe they wanted an actual tuition-paying student to lead the Pep Band—a major disappointment when they caught on I was just hanging out.
“Give it a break, Kim,” one of the other intel guys said it kindly enough. I could face down a grunt half again my body mass—double on a good day—but not one of my own guys being decent.
I plummeted into an old armchair I’d scrounged, along with the rest of the shambles to create our hang-out space back here, and considered how to fix things. I sure wasn’t going to fix that mess playing out on the wall. The Army’s ground game sucked as badly as mine. I felt like I should apologize to them for that, but they were making a fine mess of this all on their own. My air game was good, but I’d never wanted to be in the Air Farce.

Initial Publication: September 1, 2024
Print pages: 64
Audio length (h:mm): 0:56
Narrator: Read by Author