Talking Sports: Streetwise

I’ve hesitated to bring up this topic lest the subject of it be put at risk because of these words.

I’ve lived in big cities and small towns and just about everywhere is the unfortunate reality of homelessness. I didn’t think it was an issue in Sidney until I came across one so unfortunate being last summer. I felt bad for him and hoped that he could pull himself together before long. Or at least that he could find the help he needed.

I saw him occasionally throughout the fall and winter. But sightings became increasingly rare as the temperatures dropped. Without help I didn’t see how he would ever manage to survive the rigors of a Sidney winter.

But somehow he has.

Now that spring has arrived I’ve been seeing him more regularly. He hangs around downtown in an old ratty looking black and white suit. Unless you’re up before the sun you’re not likely to see him. He does a good job of keeping out of sight from the rest of us. He still wears the same suit I saw him in last summer only now it’s a little more faded - a little more dusty.

Perhaps he’s afraid we’ll be looking to do him harm or perhaps he’s just humiliated to be in the state he’s in. He might even have developed strong mental or emotional issues from being on the street so long. But he keeps well out of sight most of the time.

Recently I saw him in the light of day - though only briefly. Sad to say he looks even worse with the illumination of the sun reflecting off the dirt that covers him from head to toe.

Since I first came across him, I began making discreet inquiries. Most people I’ve asked don’t even know he’s around. He does such a good job of keeping out of sight, it seems only a few have actually caught a glimpse of him. I admit my own sightings have been rare.

I did manage to come across someone who knows the guy. I will not mention his/her name here since my source is as fearful for him as I am. Anyway, I’ve come to learn he’s still young, though it’s hard to tell from the life he’s led. He was also, or rather is I believe, an extraordinary athlete.

As I’ve come to understand he has lightning quick hands. He could outrun anyone, turn and cut on a dime, do somersaults in mid air from insane heights and balance himself on a high bar without falling. So I’m told, he can go from a stopped position to full speed faster than any human being my source has ever seen.

And like all great athletes he has great vision. If he were a football player he could see the entire field before him, see the hole open up and hit it before even the quickest NFL linebacker could react.

Before you get too excited, Coach Ekart, there are a few other things I’ve come to understand about this guy.

If there’s anything I’ve learned about football coaches - and I mean all football coaches - is that they hate turnovers. Nothing in life, it seems, more irritates a football coach than turnovers. Sorry Coach Ekart but this dude has bad hands. Really bad hands. But that doesn’t make him any less of an athlete.

It’s simply unfortunate that he doesn’t have any thumbs.

It’s not a genetic malfunction. It is, I believe, a product of evolution. You see, this homeless guy is not human. He’s a cat. He is among the greatest warm blooded hunters on planet earth. Because of his black and white suit, I shall hereafter refer to him as Sylvester.

Perhaps it’s a trait I picked up from my mother. But I hate to see animals suffer. And I don’t want them put to death either. When I was young our house had a birdhouse on the roof. But the birds were run off by a band of squirrels who would occasionally fall down the chimney with some kind of an injury. My mother would nurse the wild animals back to health and set them free.

I don’t know if anything can be done about Sylvester or even if anything should be done. I’d rather seem him roaming the streets of Sidney for a thousand years before seeing him put down. He may even be so wild now that he wouldn’t be suitable as a pet. Maybe he would be a wonderful pet. I think my mother would find out though. She’d nurse him back to health and set him free.

But free for a domestic cat isn’t the same as it is for a wild squirrel. Sure nature has given Sylvester the skills to survive even the most brutal of Sidney winters. But his freedom would be a home with love, regular meals and a place to curl up for a long snooze. There would be peace in his heart and visions of slow-footed chipmunks dancing in his head.

Sylvester doesn’t belong on the street. Especially since it’s likely that his homelessness is the result of irresponsible human actions. I think that means we owe him something.

I don’t know what to do about Sylvester. I don’t have the resources or the know how to help him. But I feel really bad for him. I sure wish there was a way we could do right by Sylvester without taking from him what he’s fought so hard to keep - his life.