J. EDMUND BARNES

Allow me to first say that I fully symphatize with the girls who went to Sulphur last Friday, brimming with dreams of glory, only to see those dreams shattered, forced to retrace their steps home, home to contemplate what should have, could have, and would have been. I won’t pretend to feel all of your pain, shame, or disappointment. Well, maybe some of the disappointment. You see, gentle readers, I’d been working at this paper for only a week when an amazing opportunity was offered me. Lenny (assistant managing editor Leonard Gray) told me that I could either get AP copy from some old college buddies of his out in Sulphur, or go cover the games myself. As an eager young writer and desperate to prove myself, or so my reasoning went, I should leap at the opportunity to show the paper that I was willing to go anywhere and do anything to get the story. That, and I “might” get an expense account. Ladies and gentlemen, there are no two more glorious words in the English language than expense account.’ For a young writer, it’s like free money, and with some creativity, one can justify damn near any expense. On Thursday afternoon, I was given my first assignment as a journalist: Cover the River Parishes’ girls softball teams on their quest for a state title. Visions of hotel rooms and free meals danced in my head. My conscience wrestled with difficult decisions, such as if it were more wrong to have the steak or the lobster. All I had to do was thank the St. Charles Lady Comets, the Lutcher Lady Bulldogs, and the Hahnville Lady Tigers. I arrived full of hope and excitement. Great sports, great writing, free food. Life couldn’t be better, could it? Then Lutcher went down 4-3. They played hard, they did their best, but in the end, Teurlings had their number. One out of three. The other two would make it into the semifinals, right? In the pressbox for the St. Charles Catholic game, I was informed Hahnville had been trounced 19-3. No, that score couldn’t be right. Hahnville had a 17-game winning streak, a winning streak brought to an abrupt and messy end as it turned out. Two out of three. I then broke a journalistic code. On my first assignment. I began rooting for St. Charles Catholic. “Come on, Comets!” I silently screamed. “Daddy needs a filet mignon!” The Comets played a great game, a game I thought they would win. Brusly deserves credit for holding on the way they did, but the game really belonged to St. Charles Catholic. In the end it wasn’t meant to be. I’d like to thank the Comets, Bulldogs, and Tigers. For a brief, brief instant, I had the Holy Grail of journalism in my hands. Then fate snatched it away- no surf and turf for you, Ed. But I’m not bitter. From what I’ve seen of the way ya’ll play, I know I’ll get another chance. J. EDMUND BARNES can be contacted at L’Observateur (P.O. Box 1010, Laplace, La, 70069, 652-9545) or by email at josephusbarnes@hotmail.com.