As long as I can remember I have always wanted to be a Champion Hopscotch Contestant/Player. While other kids dreamed of being plumbers and loan sharks, I had my eyes on one thing and one thing only – King of the Hopscotch.
I came across Hopscotch the same way everyone else did – in the back alleys and abandoned construction projects near my home. How I marveled at the squares laid out on the oil-covered asphalt. How I longed to play! I even told both of my friends of my dreams. “I wish to learn the art! I must play Hopscotch!” I would tell them. But they just laughed. They told me to get my head out of the clouds. They mocked me. They just couldn’t understand how I needed to jump. “Let me play Hopscotch, or kill me now!” I would cry. “Without Hopscotch I don’t want to live!” I would scream. But again they laughed. But they won’t be laughing for long. Not when I become champion. Champion of the Hopscotch.
Each day I arise with one goal in mind – to become an even greater jumper than the day before. I run, I lift weights, I stretch, I nap. Sometimes I eat cereal. I often eat popsicles. I do all of the necessary rituals to get in shape. Have you seen those guys in the commercials with the abdominal muscles that look like steel? I look nothing like that. But that’s not important in Hopscotch. If your thighs rub together it’s not the end of the world. And it is a scientific fact that having girth helps you to land easier. Just watch the Science Channel, they will back me up. And I need to be able to jump on those squares just right. I need to be able to flip around quickly. I need to be more agile than anyone else. If I expect to be King of the Hopscotch there is no other way. And I will not be denied. One day I will reign supreme. I will be King of the Hopscotch. Only then will I rest. I will rest and have a popsicle.