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LJ Idol, Week 10
Hedging your bets
Alistair McRae was a sports visionary who single-handedly created hedgehog racing, bringing pleasure to hundreds of people. It was nearly destroyed by the greed of one man, the notorious Big Jack Moore.
Al was the owner and sole employee of McRae Productions, a small-time sports promoting business. He organized all kinds of events, including the local World Series of Darts and the prestigious Masters of Miniature Golf.
Al first saw the potential in hedgehog racing when he attended his son’s high school football game. During the halftime entertainment, four local hedgehog owners brought out their pets for a ten yard race in the middle of the field.
After the starter blew his whistle, the owners released their pets. One promptly curled up into a ball and would not move. A second wandered off in the wrong direction, but two hedgehogs actually managed to waddle in the general direction of the finish line. The crowd went crazy.
Hedgehogs are not particularly speedy, so after five minutes and little forward progress, the starter declared the lead hedgehog the winner, to the delight of the crowd, which started yelling “Hedgehog! Hedgehog!”
The fans loved the cute little spikey balls and their ridiculous antics, and their reaction inspired Al, who was always looking for something new.
Only the rich could afford horse racing, and no one was interested in dog racing. Cock fights were appalling, and cat racing was a disaster. The cats were uncontrollable and either got into fights or ran away. Turtle racing had its fans, but they were too slow, while a hedgehog was much cuter than a turtle. Costs were low, too, and the participants always brought their own pets from home.
Al started small. He recruited four hedgehog owners for another race at a football game, and once again the crowd loved it, especially when one of the pets actually managed to finish the race.
The fact that the hedgehogs didn’t know they were in a race and wouldn’t have cared anyway presented a problem, which Al attacked with his usual enthusiasm. For the next race, he introduced “sweeping” to great effect. Owners were allowed to walk alongside their pets and use soft brooms to gently nudge the wayward animals in the right direction.
This proved a great success at the second football game, with one shameful exception. Spike the Hedgehog curled up in a ball at the start of the race, and Alice, his owner, wasn't able to uncurl him. Frustrated, she did the unthinkable. She was quite fond of croquet, so when Spike curled up, Alice took her broom and gave him a series of gentle thwacks to roll him down the course and into first place. Al promptly disqualified Spike and banned the practice in future races.
Alice was upset, of course, and sought revenge by inventing hedgehog bowling. The new sport had a brief run of popularity, but Alice lacked Al’s promotional flair, and it quickly faded away.
Hedgehog racing grew by leaps and bounds. No football game was complete without a race. It soon became obvious that fans were coming to the games for the hedgehogs, not the football.
Al knew then that it was time for professional hedgehog racing. He set up competitions, and offered sizable purses for the winner, sometimes as much as $25.00!
He also sold advertising. The little racers wore colorful hedgehog t-shirts decorated with ads, much like stock cars. Joe’s Pet Shop (“For All Your Hedgehog Needs!”) was a big supporter, as well as Alpha Hardware (“We Sell Hedgehog Brooms”). Successful hedgehogs were covered from neck to tail in tiny ads.
Al began holding four races a month, and the Hedgehog Racing Association was born.
Where there are races there are those willing to bet on them, and hedgehogs were no exception. Hedgehog betting grew along with the sport, and bookies started to take notice. Unfortunately, the bookies were under the control of Big Jack Moore.
Big Jack was 6’ 5” tall and weighed 280 pounds, some of it muscle. Big Jack was a failed math teacher-turned-bookie who could never calculate the odds properly. He decided to capitalize on his physical attributes instead and got some tattoos and a baseball bat, then took over management. If he couldn’t do the math, Big Jack figured he could at least inspire fear.
Big Jack ran all the illegal gambling in the area. No bet could be placed without Big Jack having a piece of the action, and he made sure this included hedgehog racing.
As the number of races grew, Big Jack found that the hedgehogs were so erratic that he wasn't making any money on the bets. Gambling on animals that would rather be asleep proved unusually difficult. It was hard to establish odds on a race when the hedgehogs might ball up and quit in the middle of it.
Big Jack decided he needed an edge, and he thought of the perfect plan one morning during breakfast.
Drinking coffee always gave him extra energy, so why not give a hedgehog an espresso before a race? If the hedgehog knew what was good for him, he would drink the coffee and bam!, instant energy. Surely a caffeinated hedgehog would be faster than the others!
For good reason, Big Jack had always been known for his brawn, not his brains.
Before the start of the next race, Big Jack entered Herbert the Hedgehog as his ringer, and then bought an espresso from the local Starbucks and poured some into a tiny cup. Herbie did not cooperate, and turned up his tiny nose at the strange offering.
Big Jack’s usual methods of persuasion would not work, since Herbie could not understand English. Bribing Herbie with special treats also failed – Herbie ate the treats, but still refused to drink the espresso.
Frustrated, Big Jack took out a funnel and poured the coffee into the poor hedgehog. This caused an immediate reaction – Herbie’s eyes grew big, his quills stood straight out, and he wandered around the room at top hedgehog speed.
Herbie’s handler managed to keep him under control until the start of the race, when the starter blew her whistle.
Herbie churned down the course, his fat little legs paddling as fast as he could go. Five minutes later, Herbie became only the second hedgehog to actually finish a race! Big Jack knew he had a winner.
Big Jack caffeinated the poor animal for the next three races, and each time Herbie was a big winner. Soon, the smart money was all on Herbie and Big Jack was ready to strike.
The next race was the crown jewel -- the Gran Prix! Only the best were invited to compete, and Herbie was the clear favorite with almost all the money on him to win. For Big Jack, this was as good as it could get.
The day of the race was sunny and warm, the stands were full, banners were flying, and the excitement was electric.
This time, however, Big Jack did not give Herbie his espresso. He was then just an ordinary hedgehog, like all the others. There was no way Herbie would win.
At the start of the race, all the hedgehogs trundled down the track – except Herbie, who curled up in a ball. But then something unexpected happened. The crowd started chanting "Herbie! Herbie!", and the little creature reached down inside himself, uncurled, and slowly started wandering down the track.
Going faster and faster, Herbie caught up to one racer, then the others, until he waddled across the finish line in first place, barely nosing out Superhog!
Herbie was a champion who simply could not be denied, espresso or no espresso. He had the heart of a winner.
The crowd surged out of the stands and onto the field, marching around the track with Herbie held high, ignorant of the true scope of his achievement.
At the award ceremony, Al placed a tiny medal around Herbie’s neck, but Big Jack did not attend the event. In fact, Big Jack was nowhere to be found. He could not cover the bets, so he skipped town, never to be seen again.
Herbie was allowed to retire gracefully after his triumph, and went on to live with Al, who claimed him when Jack could not be located.
Hedgehog racing continued for years, but it was never as popular as that first amazing season when Herbie was king.
Big Jack’s attempt to fix the race remained unknown until long after the Hedgehog Racing Association ended, when his handler finally revealed it in his self-published history of the HRA, Champion! The Incredible True Story of Herbie the Hedgehog, currently available online.
Al turned his attention to finding the next big thing, but he never made it to the big time again. Still, he and Herbie had a good life together.
Al gave Herbie a comfortable home and fed him a diet of fruits, vegetables and mealworms—but never espresso. Herbie's appreciation and general hedgehog-ness made him a delight to film and photograph, so much that Al began a whole new career chronicling cute animals and advertising them on YouTube channels and greeting cards.
Together, they kept the creditors and broom vendors from the door.
* * * * *
Once again I would like to thank![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
halfshellvenus, my in-house beta reader.
Hedging your bets
THE FIX
Alistair McRae was a sports visionary who single-handedly created hedgehog racing, bringing pleasure to hundreds of people. It was nearly destroyed by the greed of one man, the notorious Big Jack Moore.
Al was the owner and sole employee of McRae Productions, a small-time sports promoting business. He organized all kinds of events, including the local World Series of Darts and the prestigious Masters of Miniature Golf.
Al first saw the potential in hedgehog racing when he attended his son’s high school football game. During the halftime entertainment, four local hedgehog owners brought out their pets for a ten yard race in the middle of the field.
After the starter blew his whistle, the owners released their pets. One promptly curled up into a ball and would not move. A second wandered off in the wrong direction, but two hedgehogs actually managed to waddle in the general direction of the finish line. The crowd went crazy.
Hedgehogs are not particularly speedy, so after five minutes and little forward progress, the starter declared the lead hedgehog the winner, to the delight of the crowd, which started yelling “Hedgehog! Hedgehog!”
The fans loved the cute little spikey balls and their ridiculous antics, and their reaction inspired Al, who was always looking for something new.
Only the rich could afford horse racing, and no one was interested in dog racing. Cock fights were appalling, and cat racing was a disaster. The cats were uncontrollable and either got into fights or ran away. Turtle racing had its fans, but they were too slow, while a hedgehog was much cuter than a turtle. Costs were low, too, and the participants always brought their own pets from home.
Al started small. He recruited four hedgehog owners for another race at a football game, and once again the crowd loved it, especially when one of the pets actually managed to finish the race.
The fact that the hedgehogs didn’t know they were in a race and wouldn’t have cared anyway presented a problem, which Al attacked with his usual enthusiasm. For the next race, he introduced “sweeping” to great effect. Owners were allowed to walk alongside their pets and use soft brooms to gently nudge the wayward animals in the right direction.
This proved a great success at the second football game, with one shameful exception. Spike the Hedgehog curled up in a ball at the start of the race, and Alice, his owner, wasn't able to uncurl him. Frustrated, she did the unthinkable. She was quite fond of croquet, so when Spike curled up, Alice took her broom and gave him a series of gentle thwacks to roll him down the course and into first place. Al promptly disqualified Spike and banned the practice in future races.
Alice was upset, of course, and sought revenge by inventing hedgehog bowling. The new sport had a brief run of popularity, but Alice lacked Al’s promotional flair, and it quickly faded away.
Hedgehog racing grew by leaps and bounds. No football game was complete without a race. It soon became obvious that fans were coming to the games for the hedgehogs, not the football.
Al knew then that it was time for professional hedgehog racing. He set up competitions, and offered sizable purses for the winner, sometimes as much as $25.00!
He also sold advertising. The little racers wore colorful hedgehog t-shirts decorated with ads, much like stock cars. Joe’s Pet Shop (“For All Your Hedgehog Needs!”) was a big supporter, as well as Alpha Hardware (“We Sell Hedgehog Brooms”). Successful hedgehogs were covered from neck to tail in tiny ads.
Al began holding four races a month, and the Hedgehog Racing Association was born.
Where there are races there are those willing to bet on them, and hedgehogs were no exception. Hedgehog betting grew along with the sport, and bookies started to take notice. Unfortunately, the bookies were under the control of Big Jack Moore.
Big Jack was 6’ 5” tall and weighed 280 pounds, some of it muscle. Big Jack was a failed math teacher-turned-bookie who could never calculate the odds properly. He decided to capitalize on his physical attributes instead and got some tattoos and a baseball bat, then took over management. If he couldn’t do the math, Big Jack figured he could at least inspire fear.
Big Jack ran all the illegal gambling in the area. No bet could be placed without Big Jack having a piece of the action, and he made sure this included hedgehog racing.
As the number of races grew, Big Jack found that the hedgehogs were so erratic that he wasn't making any money on the bets. Gambling on animals that would rather be asleep proved unusually difficult. It was hard to establish odds on a race when the hedgehogs might ball up and quit in the middle of it.
Big Jack decided he needed an edge, and he thought of the perfect plan one morning during breakfast.
Drinking coffee always gave him extra energy, so why not give a hedgehog an espresso before a race? If the hedgehog knew what was good for him, he would drink the coffee and bam!, instant energy. Surely a caffeinated hedgehog would be faster than the others!
For good reason, Big Jack had always been known for his brawn, not his brains.
Before the start of the next race, Big Jack entered Herbert the Hedgehog as his ringer, and then bought an espresso from the local Starbucks and poured some into a tiny cup. Herbie did not cooperate, and turned up his tiny nose at the strange offering.
Big Jack’s usual methods of persuasion would not work, since Herbie could not understand English. Bribing Herbie with special treats also failed – Herbie ate the treats, but still refused to drink the espresso.
Frustrated, Big Jack took out a funnel and poured the coffee into the poor hedgehog. This caused an immediate reaction – Herbie’s eyes grew big, his quills stood straight out, and he wandered around the room at top hedgehog speed.
Herbie’s handler managed to keep him under control until the start of the race, when the starter blew her whistle.
Herbie churned down the course, his fat little legs paddling as fast as he could go. Five minutes later, Herbie became only the second hedgehog to actually finish a race! Big Jack knew he had a winner.
Big Jack caffeinated the poor animal for the next three races, and each time Herbie was a big winner. Soon, the smart money was all on Herbie and Big Jack was ready to strike.
The next race was the crown jewel -- the Gran Prix! Only the best were invited to compete, and Herbie was the clear favorite with almost all the money on him to win. For Big Jack, this was as good as it could get.
The day of the race was sunny and warm, the stands were full, banners were flying, and the excitement was electric.
This time, however, Big Jack did not give Herbie his espresso. He was then just an ordinary hedgehog, like all the others. There was no way Herbie would win.
At the start of the race, all the hedgehogs trundled down the track – except Herbie, who curled up in a ball. But then something unexpected happened. The crowd started chanting "Herbie! Herbie!", and the little creature reached down inside himself, uncurled, and slowly started wandering down the track.
Going faster and faster, Herbie caught up to one racer, then the others, until he waddled across the finish line in first place, barely nosing out Superhog!
Herbie was a champion who simply could not be denied, espresso or no espresso. He had the heart of a winner.
The crowd surged out of the stands and onto the field, marching around the track with Herbie held high, ignorant of the true scope of his achievement.
At the award ceremony, Al placed a tiny medal around Herbie’s neck, but Big Jack did not attend the event. In fact, Big Jack was nowhere to be found. He could not cover the bets, so he skipped town, never to be seen again.
Herbie was allowed to retire gracefully after his triumph, and went on to live with Al, who claimed him when Jack could not be located.
Hedgehog racing continued for years, but it was never as popular as that first amazing season when Herbie was king.
Big Jack’s attempt to fix the race remained unknown until long after the Hedgehog Racing Association ended, when his handler finally revealed it in his self-published history of the HRA, Champion! The Incredible True Story of Herbie the Hedgehog, currently available online.
Al turned his attention to finding the next big thing, but he never made it to the big time again. Still, he and Herbie had a good life together.
Al gave Herbie a comfortable home and fed him a diet of fruits, vegetables and mealworms—but never espresso. Herbie's appreciation and general hedgehog-ness made him a delight to film and photograph, so much that Al began a whole new career chronicling cute animals and advertising them on YouTube channels and greeting cards.
Together, they kept the creditors and broom vendors from the door.
* * * * *
Once again I would like to thank
halfshellvenus, my in-house beta reader.
