Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, January 2, 1993 TAG: 9212310267
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Ben Beagle (staff)
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
ICE STORM BRINGETH OUT THAT OLD BEAGLE ATHLETICISM
I don't mind telling you that I was magnificent during that ice storm this week.You talk about a man who is confident and prepared to beat the world, and you're talking about Old Bennie here.
I wish you all could have seen me going out to get the paper from the box on Happy Highfields Road.
You would have known immediately that once a great athlete, always a great athlete. That good men don't allow time to dull their edges. That once you've learned perfect control of your body, you never forget.
I strode confidently out into the morning. I was not afraid when I saw the ice that covered the Cherokee. I actually joyed in the challenge.
I may have shouted "Huzzah!"
From the Cherokee to the street, I slid in an easy pattern. At the street, I gracefully turned downhill, despite the fact that the newspaper box is uphill.
Quickly, displaying an agility that is rare in a person my age, I stepped into the grass for the traction needed to keep from falling down.
I'll admit I'm not as good at falling down as I used to be, but put me in a pair of Reeboks with no socks at 7 a.m. on an icy day and you've got yourself a show, Otho.
I then gently, competently fell to the ground and crawled up the bank on my hands and knees and pulled myself erect by grabbing some shrubbery at the side of the house.
I think some neighbors applauded. I hate it when they do that, being a simple man and all.
"Well, that's another great achievement for mankind and for aging people everywhere," I told the greatest station wagon driver of them all as I came heartily through the kitchen door.
"I saw," the driver said. "You overshot the newspaper box again. I thought for a minute you were going to slide to Tanglewood. I wish you'd try aiming yourself better and take it a little easier on the shrubbery."
I laughed scornfully.
"You don't realize that I did all of that on purpose, do you?" I said. "Sure. I could have glided straight to the paper box, but that would have been the easy way."
She laughed scornfully.
"Why don't you take the easy way and go get the paper?" she said.
"What?" I said. "And fly into the face of a long-standing Beagle reputation for excellence in ice-sliding? Just so you can read `Funky Winkerbean'? Never."
"Whatever," she said.
I didn't want to tell her - because of a Beagle tradition of playing hurt - but I pulled a hamstring crawling up the bank.
That is, I think I still have hamstrings.