Look Out for the Bagel!
Mid-way through the first period, as JR grabbed the ball from a much taller dude, his mother Kathi turned to me. "Did you hear that?" "Hear what?" I asked. "Look out for the bagel." I hadn't heard a thing about bagels, I had to admit. But sure enough, a few minutes later, JR had the ball again. Across the room, an assistant coach yelled, "Look out for the bagel." I grabbed Kathi's arm. "I heard it that time." Of course, we both knew what Look Out for the Bagel meant. It was a slight against our people. It was a deli-inspired diss!
"Look out for the bagel" reminded me of my junior year in England, when my British flatmates would say, "Can I jew a piece of bread off you?" They had no idea they'd turned me into an action verb, but it was my job to point it out, and point it out, I did, until they got the message and stopped.
Back to the game: In the second period, a blond-haired kid sitting near us started calling, "Bagel!" "What is going on!" I said to Kathi. "He's on our side." The two of us didn't know whether to contact the ACLU, make a citizen's arrest or just sit there and stew. A nasty fight had already broken out at one of the recent games (instigated by the parents) and so we decided maybe we shouldn't mix in, even though we were "this close" to stirring up trouble.
Post-game, I went up to the blond-haired kid: "Just wondering. Why were you calling out 'Bagel'?" He shrugged. "I don't know. I thought it was good luck. Every time the other side said Bagel, we scored."
Could it be true? Had all that bagel-calling worked in our favor? After all, we did whoop 'em, 70 - 49. Still, if it were up to me, I'd take the bagels off the basketball court, and put them back where they belong, on a nice platter, with the lox and onions.
You are SUCH a terrific writer! And isn't just fun being Jewish?
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