Home > 2012-13 Season > Tucker Reflects on Inaugural Season

Tucker Reflects on Inaugural Season

By Dick Oakes, Jr.
Senior Staff Writer
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Stamps GM and island monarch Aaron Tucker reflected on his inaugural season in the Pondicherry Association today during a brunch meeting with several journalists.

“As you all know, Mr. Oakes is a clothed,” he began by way of introduction, referring to my collared-shirt, pants, shoes and socks.  “He has not yet embraced our legacy of nudity.  He does not yet understand it.”

The other journalists, all naked, chortled happily.

“When I look at you men and women of the press, I see goodwill,” noted Tucker as a nude waiter produced a cart of pastries and coffee tureens.  “I don’t see, as Mr. Oakes undoubtedly does, mere flabby Mamma tits or engorged sacks or a series of voluminous cabooses, squeaking strangely, almost eerily against the poly-vinyl seating with each tiny, nigh-imperceptible bodily movement.  No, this is the fundamental difference in our worldviews.  This is why the worldview of Lankville is essentially a constructionist ontology that…”

I interrupt.  “Can we move off the whole nudity thing?” I ask politely.

There is an awkward silence.  Tucker suddenly shoves a pastry into his mouth and several Hoover Island scribes make notes.

Finished, Tucker discusses his expansion club, who finished 5th for the 2012-13 season.

“Many, most of our players are Lankvillians.  As you all know, at the end of the campaign, we brought up a Hoover Island native– a man called Tuffet.  Tuffet was viciously checked into the boards while nude during a morning skate and his sporting career, at that moment, was terminated.  We recognize now that there will never be a nude player.  There is a nudity line in the P.A.  No one will cross it.  We know that now.”

Several of the journalists look down at their laps.  There is a moment of silence.

“Brave Tuffet,” Tucker comments.  “He visited me at the palace recently.  I gave him a lovely quartz medal.  It was small and I think later he dropped it somewhere.  It’s a shame.”

The journalists lower their heads again.  I need a beer and a shot.

“What will you look to do during the summer?” I ask.

“To do?” Tucker asks incredulously.  “Whatever do you mean?”

“Player transactions?  Free-agent pickups, etc.  Who are you looking at?”

Tucker turns to his seconds.  “What is he?  I don’t…I can’t…”

The seconds pat him on the back and take him gently away.

“Well, that’s it,” says one of the journalists.  He stands up, revealing to the daylight a well-hung package.  “He won’t come back now.”

Everyone disperses.

My plane doesn’t leave until tomorrow.  I make a beeline for the main stretch.  Figure I’ll check out the local talent

Dick Oakes’ examination of the local talent will continue in further issues.

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