“Who are you talking about?”
“That man in the old dirty brown and blue jacket. He has an ‘S’ on his jacket.”
“Oh. That’s Sparty.”, I said.
“How do you know him Daddy?”
“Oh, everyone knows Sparty. He’s the town nut.”
“Sparty. Is that what the ‘S’ stands for?”, my son asked.
“Not exactly. The ‘S’ stands for Spartanburg which he loves and so everyone calls him Sparty.”
“Sparty. That’s funny because it rhymes with farty. So he loves this city?”
“Well, we all love this city. But the ‘S’ on his jacket is for Spartanburg High School.”
“Spartanburg High School? Is that like Dorman High School?“
I chuckled. “Not hardly. Dorman High School had humble beginnings for sure but they surpassed Spartanburg High School long ago.”
“OH! Spartanburg High School is that football team that Dorman beats every year?”
“Yep, that’s right! But it wasn’t always so. Back when I was in school Spartanburg always beat Dorman. That’s what Sparty lovingly refers to now as the days of Valhalla when the mighty Vikings could do no wrong. Of course nowadays the Vikings can do no right. That’s what finally drove Sparty over the edge. All those years of praise and loyalty and hope that he held onto finally drove him insane...
He quit his job, sold his Trans Am, even pawned all of his Journey CD’s because the Vikings just could not beat the Cavaliers anymore.”
“Who is Journey?”
“They were a gay band from the 80′s that only wrote crappy love songs. Much like the Spartanburg Vikings, they are now washed up has-beens. The brown and blue jacket actually used to be gold and blue before when it was new and not the rag you see today. You see, Sparty believed in everything gold. Gold helmets, gold buses, gold trophies. He even makes little paper boats now all day long and floats them in puddles of his own urine. Calls it the golden voyage. Before he sold his car he tried to spray paint it gold also. But Sparty is no better at auto painting than he is at trash talking and the paint flaked off and faded away just like his dreams and desires.”
“Why does he walk everywhere he goes? Can’t he take the bus?”, asked my son.
“Sparty refuses to ride a bus unless it’s golden.”
“That’s weird.”, my son replied.
“Well Sparty is weird.”
“Yeah, and he smells like pee.”
“Well rumor has it that he even refuses to take a shower unless it’s golden.”
“Why does he stand on the corner most of the time talking to nobody?”
“He is relating the Legend Of Valhalla.”
“What is the Legend Of Valhalla?”
“It’s just a myth about the Viking gods and their conquest of everything good.”
“I want to hear the legend.”
“Well do you want Sparty’s version or the real version?”
“The real one of course.”
“Ok, the legend begins at the Halls of Asgard.“
One bright summer morning, Thor, the God of Thunder, rode out of Asgard in his golden chariot far westward, fighting Indians, Trojans, Bearcats, and Puppies as he went and slaying them with his mighty hammer, Mjolner. His beautiful blue mantle shone with stars and his helmet of gold glittered in the clear air. As he swept along every one stopped to look, for such a ram driven chariot and such a rider were rarely seen on earth. Sometimes the swift hoofs clattered along the rocky asphalt roads across the open country, sometimes they struck quick echoes out of the mountain sides in the deep dells, sometimes they rang along the very summits of the hills; and again, in an instant, ram and rider swept noiselessly through the air like a strange phantom in the clear mid-day.
When Thor reached Chateau De’Cavalier he clanged on the mighty door of the castle with his golden hammer.
“Open up little Cavaliers! It is time to pay your dues to the Vikings that rule this land!”
“Who are you, riding through air with golden helmet and flowing mantle?” asked the impressive figure who opened the door.
“All in this land know my name and all that hear it fear it for I am the mighty Thor, champion of Odin, hero of the Vikings, and ruler of your city. As you have every year since the beginning of time, you will now pay your homage to those who subjugate you! And who are you that knows not my name?”
“I am the prophesied one from the north beyond the borders of this land, summoned to crush the barbaric Vikings and beat them into submission.”, answered the figure.
Thor laughed mockingly and shot back, “The Cavaliers are puny nuisances, hardly worth the time it takes to ride to battle with them and you dare believe you can lead them to victory! Hahahaha!”, the mighty Thor bellowed. “So am I to suppose that you are the David to my Goliath?”
“As a matter of fact you speak the truth, my name is indeed David. And yes, it is my destiny to overcome the cruel Viking empire and banish them into obscurity! We will take your golden helmets from your head and hold them aloft and use them as our chalices as we drink every drop of mead and spirits you have.
We will make your women our own and they will rejoice for it. Your golden chariots will be melted down and made into trophies that will line our glorious halls.
“We will pull down every stone of Asgard and cart them to the West Gate where we will use the stones to build a new center of commerce. We will take your pathetic buildings to the east and throw them in the bargain bins where they will be purchased for a mere copper a piece. They will make decent dollhouses for our female children to play with. Children who will one day cheer for our soldiers as they defeat your own year after year, season after season.
“We will denigrate and defile the battlefield in Asgard!“
Here, Thor interrupted David to say sheepishly, “Oh we don’t have a battlefield in the mighty camp of Asgard. We rent a battlefield several miles away from Asgard.”
“Really?”, said David confused.
“Uh...yeah...”, said Thor averting his eyes, ”...uh...but it’s a really nice battlefield. Nice parking.”
“Well, whatever...”, said David and he continued his boast, “Your citizens with their cartigans and ascots will slowly go mad as they watch their city and their heritage crumble brick by brick, year by year until nothing is left but the precious memories of their once beloved empire. Your children will line the streets and cry with their mothers. Everyone in the east will run for shelter but there will be no place to hide.
“The hope of your heralds will die and envy will wither them to nothing. They will walk the streets homeless in thread bare clothes barking their insane ramblings of Viking tradition and history and generally annoying the Hell out of everybody in the land. They will boast and brag every year about the coming of the second reich of the Viking people and every year shall have their mouths stuffed with the jet black feathers of the bird of humility!
“Your heralds will be as students to our own heralds who will weave their magical words and incantations around the throats of those not worthy to even wield a quill and paper, and the incantations will slowly choke off their words and protests. Even the best and most highly educated of your scholars, the ones capable of simple grammar and spelling, will bow down before and pay tribute to the mastery of our own orators!
Some of your criers may even seek solace by the sea...
... reveling in the triumphs of other armies not touched by the blight and ruin that our Cavaliers will reek upon their enemies!
Upon hearing this the enraged god bellowed as he climbed aboard his chariot, “We shall see whose realm crumbles oh David, the prophesied one! We will meet on the night after the day named for me, Thor’s day! You seem as one who has honor and bravery. May the best army win the day!”
“So what happened when the armies battled?”, asked my son so I continued...
Sad to say, Thor and his army was still very powerful and much in the prime of their vitality. David’s words angered them and riled them up and they did indeed defeat the Cavalier army that year and the year after. But David’s forces got stronger and began winning those battles which enraged the Viking hordes though there was nothing they could do. Soon it was the Cavaliers who were subjugating the Vikings and humbling their followers.
“True to David’s words they did indeed build a new center of commerce where the old castle and battleground stood and used the wealth to break ground on a new kingdom the likes of which the land had never seen. So vast was the Cavalier kingdom that it was the size of a small city and meanwhile the East did indeed fall to ruin and decay.
Once in a while the Vikings would steal a victory away from the Cavaliers which only served to tease their followers with the gossamer hope that they would one day return to dominance over the West.”
“But they never did dominate the Cavaliers again?”
“Well what do YOU think?”
“I think I want to go to the football game tonight papa.”
“Me too son. Maybe we’ll see Sparty there. We might even buy him a meal. He’s looking a little gaunt.”
