The 2002 Rutledge Games

Last year in this space I proposed a theory that there might have been some sort of baby switching mix-up at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital back in 1995. Some poor “Winner” family obviously went home with our true biological “Loser” son while we blithely exited with the youngster who, a few short years later, would develop into a Rutledge Games Juggernaut: the one we would come to know as Bradford Hampsey Morbeck!

AND NOW........An important piece of Artwork which might someday hang at the Louvre` in Paris, France

"Winning The Race"

a self portrait

Bradford Hampsey Morbeck (American; 1995-?)

#2 Pencil on Scratch Paper

We were a few minutes late arriving at the “Triangle” and we almost paid dearly for our mistake. The slower moving members of our party were JUST entering the property when all of a sudden I saw Rutledge’s fastest 3/4/5 year old sprinting towards me at a high rate of speed. He was neck and neck with ANOTHER kid named Gabriel (we always thought we had the only one) as he crossed the finish line and in truth I thought he had finally lost his crown. After discreet inquiries were made it was determined that indeed Brad’s unbroken skein remained unblemished: a stunning fourth year victory in his age group! I was so surprised by how quickly it all transpired that for the first time in four years I neglected to even snap a picture of the blessed event.

Moving on to other competition news; Here it is, in a nutshell: Brad Morbeck (or whoever’s kid he REALLY might be) WON every event he participated in. Sally, Robert, Ben & Gabe Morbeck LOST every event WE participated in. YOU do the math.

Our little boys had a good time racing in the “15 yard dash for 4-year old’s” race. They didn’t win but at least they managed to arrive at the finish line both standing up this year. Visiting dignitary Shauna Wallace entered the “Sack Race for 12-year old’s” and was doing pretty well until the ground vanished beneath her jumping feet and she ended up rolling ball of burlap. She also entered the “egg toss” and reached the semi-finals before an errant throw cascaded into a crowd of horrified onlookers. Lily Wallace was with us and got herself into a few events. Unfortunately I was at the other side of the athletic field at the time so I can’t tell you the results of her efforts.

Brad and fellow racer (the other) Gabriel ended up in 3 way tie for first place in the “Balloon Toss for 6 year olds”; all were awarded prize money. Ben and Gabe participated in their annual “Kick the Ball” event, with disappointing results. I came upon this event somewhat late and I casually asked Bob Sokoloff, “Hey, why are MY boys sitting THERE?” (just inches from the starting line). “THAT’s where they kicked the ball!” Ohhhhhhh. I shouldn’t have asked. Maybe the sun was in their eyes.

They had a better time participating in the “water carry relay”, an exciting few minutes when small children try to progressively fill up large buckets using only small cups perched precariously on their heads. They LOST, however. Brad’s team WON, of course (in a different age grouping, naturally).

And speaking of LOSING: The albatross which seems to perpetually hang around the Philadelphia Phillies’ collective necks seems to now be doggedly hanging around my neck as well. I ‘ve always received icy stares from Philadelphia-area natives whenever I’ve gone into my “City of Losers” rap denigrating my newly (well, not so newly) adopted digs: “I’m a loser. That’s why I really like it here. I’ve never felt really comfortable living anywhere else. That’s why I put down roots and bought a house in this area.” Icy stare, Icy stare. Coincidentally, the main architect of the “Winner or Loser” theory and how it relates to professional sporting events is right here in our midst this Independence Day: none other than long suffering Red Sox Fan Rick Sullivan.

Regardless, it was time to avenge the rest of my (natural) family’s losing proclivities by hooking up with Known Winning Person Bob Sokoloff in the various adult competitions. Last year we thrilled our combined families’ minds and stomachs when we won 4 cheese pizzas by successfully throwing eggs to each other at high (but gentle) rates of speed. We swaggered in victory throughout the year, confident of an easy victory in the year 2002. We even joked about spending long hours practicing our technique on moonlit nights, eager to repeat our stunning victory of 2001.

The THRILL of Victory...................

......................and the AGONY of Defeat!

2001 2002

Someone else obviously “wanted it more”, to quote Moe the bartender on “The Simpsons” (commenting on the Duff/Duff Lite Super Bowl matchup one year).

We overconfidently spent the off season driving big cars and eating big lunches when we should have been at the gym tossing eggs. I’m mostly to blame: My usually “soft” hands turned Hector Lopez-like as I tried to catch a perfectly thrown ova midway through the elimination tournament. Splaattt!

We also took on a team of Rick and Sally (and others) in a bizarre “pin the clothespin” ritual. Each team was given 3 minutes for one partner to pin as many CP-27’s (the film industry’s term) as possible on the other partner. Sally and I chose ourselves as the “Pin-ees” while Rick and Bob were the “Pin-ers”. Bob and I just edged them with a total of 61 but we lost to some crazy people (the woman had REALLY long hair) who trounced us with 80-something.

Our final quest for ultimate victory was in the all important “balloon toss” event. During the Parade Bob had even casually mentioned to me, “You know.......If we get the “right” balloon, there could be no stopping us” (or words to that effect).

I guess we didn’t get the right balloon. My hard hands betrayed us again as an overfilled white balloon skittered onto the ground with explosive results. At least it cleaned the egg off my hand a bit. Sure enough, Bob’s keen analytical mind put things in perspective: “Did you notice that winning balloon? It was BY FAR the smallest.” To quote “Dem Bums” of Flatbush: “Wait til next year!”) While we were doing the final adult events Sally accompanied all of the children down to the all important “peanut scramble”. They SHOULD call it the “peanut and wood chip scramble”, given the large number of wood chips our bags ended up being packed with. Obviously somehow speed won out over efficiency.

Did I mention how HOT it was? We had promised our visitors a soggy drenching with the fire hose which Rutledge’s Finest usually hooks up out on the athletic field to cool down the crowd. Due to the ongoing drought this year draconian Water Usage Restrictions apparently put the kibosh on this incredibly essential courtesy. Hey, I recently noticed that the fountain at Logan Circle was running again; I thought that pesky Drought was over. We slink home, wallowing in our defeat(s) while Rutledge’s fastest 6 year old practically skips in triumph.

The Aquatic Club of Morton, Pennsylvania charges an exorbitant guest rate on Sundays and Holidays ($8 per head!!!) We convince our guests to pay it, the “poo-wah” being our only possible source of true relief on this 97 degree day. We all go out leaving Bruce to man the homefront while we splash about in much needed watery comfort. I sneak home to make burgers and BW and I prepare for the onslaught of returning hungry people.

We have a nice cookout visiting with the Sullivans and the Wallaces while the kids play game after game out in the backyard.

When darkness falls the Wallaces prepare to return to their temporary home at the Media Inn and the girls lament the lack of fireworks on this, our nation’s 226th birthday. Au’ contraire! I suddenly remember the packs of sparklers which have been sitting for more than a year up on top of one of the kitchen cabinets. Voila`! We all have a good time “writing our names” in the dark night air and our multi faceted festivities for Independence Day 2002 officially conclude. Ciao!