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There was a guy who retired from our association a few years back, one of those who still wore the collared shirt right up until the end. Once I saw him call a foul, green 25 clobbered white 30 on a rebound, obvious foul to everybody in the gym. He walked to the table, then turned to look back at the two players, who were still standing next to each other. Maybe the problem was that the foul occurred under green's basket, because he turned back to the table and reported the foul on white 30. Everybody kinda froze momentarily, then green's coach grasped what had happened. "Hey, our ball. Take it out, _____."
They ran their play while white's coach stood speechless.
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I swear, Gus, you'd argue with a possum.
It'd be easier than arguing with you, Woodrow.
Lonesome Dove
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