Some of the moms showed up and stood off to the side with their camcorders and zoom lenses,
fidgeting and waving and basically acting as dweeby as their sons looked.
I should know. My mom took an hour off work to be one of them.
Tim Pello was basket boy number five, and his mom actually bid on him. No kidding.
She jumped up and down, yelling, “Twenty! I’ll give you twenty!” Man, that’ll brand you for life.
Lucky for Tim, Kelly Trott came up with twenty-two fifty
and saved his sorry self from everlasting torture as a mama’s boy – one of the few fates worse than basket boy.
Caleb Hughes was up next, and he fetched the Boosters all of eleven fifty.
Then came Chad Ormonde, who I swear was ready to pee his pants when Mrs. McClure made him step forward.
She read his card, pinched his cheeks, and raked in fifteen even.
At this point what stood between me and the auction block was Jon Trulock.
And I wasn’t exactly interested in what he had in his basket or what his hobbies and favorite sports were.
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