Lucas Savela's Tied Tongue Tumbles On
If You’ll Be My Bodyguard…
With nostalgia overthrowing my fragile mind, I am transported to a pleasant time. At the turn of the millennium, our backyard trampoline was the host to one of the greatest games ever invented: “Bodyguard.” Its simplicity was a thing of beauty. The only things needed were a ball, a trampoline, and neighborhood kids. All but two of the kids were around the trampoline’s perimeter, surrounding the brave duo known as the “bodyguard” and “president.” The assassins’ motives were clear; it was their goal to hit the president, as if it were a game of dodgeball, all while keeping the soiling of their exposed socks to a minimum. The only obstacle that stood in their way was the bodyguard. It was his duty to swat, catch, and dive in front of shots that were fired at the president. The bodyguard took all of the punishment with the lone reward of keeping the president safe (and extended trampoline time). Once the president was hit, the former bodyguard was sworn into office and the lucky assassin had to now protect the new president from his former colleagues in crime.
No winners. No losers. Just a sense of complete freedom.
As everyone else did, I loved to be the bodyguard. Within the frame of the game, I was invincible. The president appreciated me; the rest envied me. I could take a shot and bounce back up. I was an action hero. I was Vin Diesel.
Oh, how I would love to once again become Vin Diesel.
