Supremely confident of his abilities, he decided to take on the
forces that had gathered...some larger, some more powerful, many possessing
vastly greater cunning than he could ever imagine...he stepped into
the field with trepidation, but his body pulsed with childish anger
emanating the war cry that would be heard for aeons..."jihad"
"Red Cherry"...
Sweat pouring down his face as his tired body turned around
for what seemed like the final time, staring down his nemesis whom
he steamed towards. The sun was merciless as expected in an
Indian summer. At the height of his exertion, with a
tired grunt, he released the red cherry...
"OUT! Knocked down his stumps!"
