A true champion . . .

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Now that the true red white and blue has won the Copa America, I was pondering what to do about the summer doldrums, or rather how to avoid them, when luckily, I ran across a little known essay called Insect-Musicians and Cricket Champions of China. A mouthful, yes, and I won’t tell what all is in it, but suffice it to say that it led me into the wonderful world of crickets. Now don’t laugh, crickets are deep and have so many endearing, human-like qualities: they’re territorial, eat fruit, like to sing and go courting (mine is a real troubadour), and they love to fight—and those are but just a few.

Now I’m not trying to take the limelight away from bacteria or anything of the kind. Lord in the heavens have mercy on my soul if I did, only bacteria are so 21stcentury, and crickets are so before man arrived, or even time was invented: their world reminds us that there are other voices out there, other rhythms, patterns and sounds that provide a good reason to slow down a mite and listen to them.

Good reasons aside, after reading the essay mentioned, I was inspired enough to catch a bushel basket of them and let them have at it. About half had to be dismissed as they would not fight and caused the fighters to start singing instead—not what I wanted. Anyway, after a few days of trial and error I now have a champion, with a tiny red, white, and blue flag painted on his back. As his manager, I will say that he will fight any other cricket and welcomes the opportunity to face off against any red, white, and red, or green, white, and red, flagged crickets. The end result may surprise you. Tyranno (the name I gave him) says bring it on!

mt