The Weekly Screed (#591)

Shower Time
A Play in Two Unnatural Acts
by David Benjamin

BROOKLYN — Legendary sportscaster Brent Musburger recently said Penn State football players should be spared any punishment directed at their university after coach Jerry Sandusky’s conviction for sexually abusing dozens of boys for more than 15 years. The innocent players, said Musburger, had no idea what Sandusky was doing — even though he often did it in a locker room where each of them spent several hours a day.

ACT ONE
(The shower room in PSU’s football facility. A late afternoon at the turn of the 21st century. Enter a football jock, Cowznowfski, to the sound of running water, a fleshy slapping rhythm and two voices, one deep and manly crying out, “Oh God! Oh God!” and “Oof! Oof!,” the other high and young, saying, “Ow! Ouch! Oh NO! Stop!”, etc.)

COWZNOWFSKI: Oops.

COACH: (The rhythm breaks abruptly) What! Huh! Holy smokes! Who’s there? Jeeezus! Cowznowfski? Izzat you?

COWZNOWFSKI: (Flustered) Yessir, coach. I, uh, didn’t… I wasn’t… um…

COACH: (Holding his position while looking back over his shoulder) What he hell are you doin’ here, Cowznowfski?

COWZNOWFSKI: Well, I was going to my locker, but… Coach, you’re naked.

COACH: Well, yeah. I’m in the damn shower, son.

COWZNOWFSKI: Yes, but… Coach, what are you doing to that frail child who looks to be no more than ten years old?

COACH: Doing? Why, hell, son, you know me! I founded The Second damn Mile. I’m saving this underprivileged boy from the dire effects of a broken home.

COWZNOWFSKI: Well, sure, coach, everybody knows how you’ve reached into the community to touch the lives of troubled kids. But this kid, coach — you seem to be touching more than his, um… life.

COACH: What are you suggesting, Cowznowfski? Young man, you should know by now that this university does not tolerate disrespect for senior faculty members.

COWZNOWFSKI: Oh, gosh no! No disrespect intended. But I couldn’t help notice, coach, that you’re both buck naked — you and that tiny little boy. And the boy seems to be crying. And judging from the position of your body, coach, you seem to be —

COACH: Hogwash, son! Now you just get thoughts like that out of your head. I’m ashamed to hear you talk like that. Son, if you’d spent more time with me in the shower like I told you, you’d realize that Tyrell and I are enjoying a little harmless horseplay.

COWZNOWFSKI: Horseplay, sir?

COACH: (He snorts, dismissively) You’re from the city, son. Aren’t you?

COWZNOWFSKI: Yessir.

COACH: Well, then, you wouldn’t know about horseplay, would you?

COWZNOWFSKI: Are you talking about horses, coach? With four legs and all?

COACH: I’ll bet you’ve never seen horses out in the meadows, playing with each other, romping and mounting one another, playfully, harmlessly, manfully.

COWZNOWFSKI: No sir. Never saw that.

COACH: Well then, I can see why you just don’t get it, son. Tyrell and I are playing a game I like to call “The White Stallion.”

TYRELL: (Softly) Help me.

COACH: You hear that? Little Tyrell here can’t quite get the hang of the game. He wants me to keep givin’ him pointers. And I’m gonna do it, too. Gonna keep pluggin' ‘til Tyrell knows this game backwards and forwards, up, down and inside-out!

COWZNOWFSKI: (Backing away) OK, coach. Well, have, um… fun.

TYRELL: Help.

COACH: Listen to that! Ain’t this boy just a glutton for knowledge?

COWZNOWFSKI: I’ll be going to my locker now, coach.

COACH: Just a second, Cowznowfski. Aren’t you one of our grayshirts?

COWZNOWFSKI: Yessir. But since I’ve been starting at tackle, I’m due to get a full scholarship. Next spring.

COACH: Son, I’m glad you’re doin’ well. But if I were you, I wouldn’t just go around thinkin’ I was due for anything. At Penn State, you gotta go out there, hump your load every day and earn your stripes the hard way. Every damn butt-bustin’ day, son!

COWZNOWFSKI: Oh, I understand, coach. It takes hard work —

COACH: Oh no. Not just hard work, son. But loyalty. And discretion!

COWZNOWFSKI: Discretion, sir?

COACH: Cowznowfski, a Penn State player without discretion, a Nittany Lion who does not know when to keep his cakehole shut, and can’t help but blab about every little thing he sees in the shower room, who cares more about some little whiny kid than he cares about the career of his coach and the reputation of his university — does that sound to you like a true-blue Nittany Lion worthy of thousands and thousands of dollars in free education and a starting spot on the glorious, legendary Penn State offensive line?

COWZNOWFSKI: I don’t think so, coach. I guess not.

COACH: You’re damn right, son. Now, toddle off, do your business and get outa here. And lock the door behind you. OK, son?

COWZNOWFSKI: Yessir.

TYRELL: Help.

COACH: Dammit, I’m tryin’ to help you, Tyrell. Now, here we go, Yippee ki-yay!

ACT TWO
(Same shower, a few months later. Same noises. Enter a football player, Klontz.)

KLONTZ: Oops. Oh my God! Ew! Yecch!

COACH: Klontz? Izzat you? Good! Get over here. Help me hold this kid down…