I could have been a contender Part 2

I already wrote about how my brothers are responsible for me not being a great professional athlete. (Click to read).


I realized at an early age that I was not that gifted when it came to sports. Most of my brothers had natural ability or skills in athletics. Me, I played sports like a retarded gorilla. As a matter of fact my nickname on the basketball court was Grape Ape. In an effort to make myself standout I developed an interest in other areas, one of which was theater. Wouldn’t you know it? My brothers are also responsible for me not being an Academy Award winning actor.

Many a times over the years they have either willingly or unwillingly thwarted my attempts at acting. It started when I was in elementary school.

In fourth grade, my English class was going to perform a short play for the entire school and parents for the Halloween assembly. None of my brothers had done any shows before; they were too busy perfecting lay-ups and jump shots. This was my chance to break out and shine, to do something better than them. The play was "The Headless Horsemen". I got a few small parts in the play. In the “Headless Horseman” I was cast as one of Ichabod’s students as well as the Headless Horseman’s horse (shut it, it was a start).

When the big day arrived I made sure that my mom was going to make it to the school on time. She had been to countless Little League games and Pee Wee football games that I knew this was going to impress her. My mom assured me she would pick up Jimmy, the youngest, from morning Kindergarten, and they would both be there. Some of my brothers attended the school so by default they would have to be there for the show. I was going to impress them as well. I knew my lines. I knew my cues. I knew my blocking. I was ready.

The curtain opened with Ichabod, played by Matt Brigaman, teaching his students. He asked his students to recite their ABC’s. That was my cue. I smiled, and in character, belted out my line. “A.B.C.D. E. F…..” Live theater was such a rush.

Just as I reaching the letter "K" my little brother Jimmy, from the back of the Gym, yelled at the top of his lungs, “SHUT UP BILLY.” It echoed off the cinder block walls and the backboards of the basketball nets. “Shut Up..up up up. Billy Billy... illy.”

The audience started laughing. I broke out into a cold sweat. I was in total shock. I was embarrassed. I froze. Live theater sucked. I couldn’t remember the rest of my lines. It was only the rest of the frigging alphabet, but I was stuck. “What the heck comes after ‘K”?” I asked myself. My mouth went dry. My throat closed and my vocal chords started to squeak. Thankfully, Jimmy Elliot, another one of Ichabod’s students bailed me out. He finished the rest of the alphabet.

We finished the scene and I went backstage totally flustered. I could not concentrate on anything else except the fact that my brother totally made me mess up. Before I knew it we were approaching the end of the play.

“Billy.” Mrs. Webb hissed. “Where is your horse costume? You are on in two minutes.”

I rushed to put on the costume. In my haste I did not align the eyeholes properly. I went out on stage as a blind horse, which caused the whole Headless Horseman chasing Ichabod climax ending to be a total disaster. My blindness caused The Headless Horseman, played by Bob M, (who did a magnificent job I might add) to miss Ichabod with the thrown pumpkin. Apparently I was facing a wall.

This was the first of many botched theater performances caused by my brothers.





That's me on the left.