Get Crackin'

The New Yorker knows that a dry crack is a happy crack, Dick Gephardt can't wait for a slice of peach pie and Blake Ashby phones it in; plus a Sanford-Brown update, dueling Bosnian beauty queens and banter with comedian/shine man Jules Summerville

A Season on the Brink

The Sanford-Brown Indians were only able to practice once in the three weeks prior to their date with Bible Baptist College on January 8, and boy, did it show. Given ample opportunity to score by way of floor general Gary (eighteen points) Lenoir's deft breakdowns of the opposing Patriots' press, normally reliable center Jeremey Harris botched a plethora of gimmes that would have kept the Indians in the contest, which they ended up dropping 83-70. Harris, mind you, was playing with a staple embedded in his left hand, courtesy of an on-the-job accident at his part-time construction gig, once again reminding the sports world at large that the average Indian hardly fits the stereotype of pampered, PlayStation-addicted college athlete. Up next for the 4-7 Indians: St. Louis Christian College on January 16 at 6:15 p.m., as part of a tournament at Concordia Seminary.

Shine On You Crazy Comedian

Jules Summerville shines shoes at Lambert Airport. He's also a stand-up comedian, which may come in handy in the wake of news last week that his entire profession may be gone from Lambert by fall. Barring an outside company stepping in and picking up the business, he worries he's going to have to "get something in labor." He prefers shining shoes.

"It's independent work," says Summerville. "You don't have nobody over your back yelling at you to flip the burgers, or if you leave the fries in the grease for two minutes you get fired."

Now in his ninth year on the job, Jules used to get more than 30 clients a day, but that number is now down to a dozen. Many of them are old men, and their shoes require a lot of work.

"They have the nastiest shoes I've seen, lawnmower grass all in them. That's because they don't do shit but work around the yard all day."

White guys in general aren't much for shoes, explains Summerville, who goes by Master Jules when he emcees a talent contest every Wednesday night at Lady A's in Pagedale.

"White people ain't into the flashy shit. They into saving for the future. Black people -- we into flashy shit, the hell with tomorrow. We might not make it to tomorrow." It goes back to elementary school, Summerville maintains. "The white kids at my school had Doc Martens with duct tape all over them, but at least they had lunch money. The black kids had nice shoes, but we had to beg the white kids for lunch money."

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