Posted tagged ‘Adidas’

The great big shoe gig in the sky

February 26, 2011

Old elephants, fearing a trip to the dentist having worn out their sixth set of teeth, take an instinctive one-way journey to the fabled land called the elephant’s graveyard. This final resting place is where they will lay their pachyderm head, all ivory and gums, for the last time. OK, get your handkerchief out and have a big cry for the elephant before we continue.

My Adidas training shoes had seen better days. Scuffed and torn, the intestines of a sweat-drenched cotton fabric garment burst forth from the belly of my boots. My trusty trainers had fared me well over the years. Many a goal or two had been scored by a controlled instep. Many a bus had been caught by the ground-eating blistering pace of the soles. Now exhausted Adidas was on the road out, lacking that Nike Swoosh.

I wanted to move left but my feet went right and carried on moving that way against my will. Powerless to stop this force, it was clear that my footwear was in command and taking me on a trip to the unknown. I ceded to my training shoes anddidas it demanded.

Eighteen and a half blocks later -I counted them- we reached the point where all good trainers shoe-shuffle off this mortal coil. There were a gang of a dozen teenagers all partaking in the last rites of used shoe ceremonies. Up above, a phone line stretched and heaved with the skeletons of previous deaths. All shoes go to heaven and are thrown airborne.

Various throwing methods are employed in this fun -for the human if not the shoe- enterprise. In all cases the laces are tied together and then it’s a freestyle paradise. Only the very skilled will land their “plane” on the line with one shot. Adopting the hammer-throw technique, I swung the shoes in a fast circular motion over my head. At great speed I hurled my Adidas up, up and away. To much applause from the Reebok-booted young, my projectile dangled like diamond earrings. Definitely, a cut above the rest.

“Here comes the law. Run, everybody.” screamed one of the shoe undertakers.

It dawned on me that this sacrilegious practise is a form of vandalism and the police would not be happy. My fellow vandals were prepared for this eventuality and their new trainers made them fleet-footed. I had thrown mine away and was shoeless; I would know better next time. In agony, I hobbled away on the unforgiving concrete. Luckily, the cops were wearing new shiny boots that weren’t broken in yet and they ran slower than me.