A Werewolf Passing Through

The bacon sizzled on the portable stove, popping and wheezing as the man indelicately jostled the pieces floating in the cast iron pan.

     Once the meat was crisp and ready, two eggs were dropped into the grease, where their sunny centers were quickly surrounded by bubbling whites.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Spoutable @ScottAdamson, Post @scottscribe, Mastodon @SLA1960 and Twitter @adamsonsl

     “Todd,” said the woman, rummaging through a large paper grocery sack. “I don’t see any plastic spoons or forks – just paper plates and knives and toothpicks – which I have no idea why I packed in the first place.”

     The man chuckled.

     “No big deal, Dana,” he said. “We can eat the bacon with our fingers and balance the eggs on the knives … just like the pioneers of old!”

     This, he thought, was shaping up to be the perfect camping trip.

     His tent had gone up with a minimum of cursing – thanks in large part to Dana’s expertise. She had not only agreed to the overnight outdoors stay; she suggested it. As a former Girl Scout, she jumped at any opportunity to get back to nature.

And that huge cooler he was sitting on was packed with ice and beer – although lighter by two after he cracked open a couple of cans of Coors Light for himself and his partner.

     Darkness had long since fallen and the full moon had risen directly overhead, its beams wriggling through the trees and illuminating every ripple on the lake. Sure, a gourmet dinner by candlelight was romantic, but bacon, eggs and brews by moonlight was a sign of true love.

     Then came the bloodcurdling scream.

     “Oh god, oh god, oh god!” yelled Dana, still clutching the sack of utensils as she stumbled back into the tent, knocking it loose from one of its tie-out points. “What is it, Todd! What is it!”

     Out of instinct Todd ran to Dana, wrapping his arms around her while swiveling his head in an effort to find the source of her terror. Dana then raised her left arm and – hand trembling – pointed toward the woods just beyond their tent.

     At first glance Todd thought some wild animal had wandered upon them, probably lured by the smell of the bacon. But as the moon provided the spotlight and his eyes adjusted, he realized he was eying something else entirely.

     The creature stood well over six feet tall, and was wearing what appeared to be a tattered flannel shirt and blue jeans covered in mud – or blood. Its piercing red eyes were framed by a fur-covered, reddish-brown face, and glistening yellow fangs seemed to hang from its black, quivering lips.

     Wooly hands highlighted by long, crooked fingers and sharp claws were evident when the intruder dropped them at its sides, and they swayed slightly as it slowly inched its way closer to the couple.

     Todd and Dana knew from their previous outdoor excursions there was always danger in the woods, whether it came in the form of a slithering snake or trundled toward them like a black bear does when searching for an easy smash and grab.

     But even though they had set up camp at Werewolf Ridge, they had assumed the site was nothing more than a clever name that might spark campfire stories and occasional jump-scares. Surely it wasn’t a description of its inhabitants.

     But if what they were looking at – with a degree of disbelief – wasn’t a werewolf, it was close enough to give them both a sense of dread.

     “Get away!” Todd yelled. “Leave us alone! I … I have a gun! I swear I do! And I’ll use it … I will!”

     Suddenly, the beast stopped in it tracks.

     “Silver bullets,” the creature said in a guttural voice.

     Dana and Todd looked at each other, then stared at the werewolf.

     It could talk.

     And if it could talk, it could communicate.

     And if it could communicate then, well … maybe the couple could avoid being ripped to shreds and pulled apart like an unsuspecting deer.

     “We don’t want any trouble,” Todd said. “Are you hungry? I’ll bet you’re hungry. Look … we have bacon. Do you know what bacon is? It’s food.”

     Todd then began touching his lips with his fingers in a feeble attempt to mimic the act of eating.

     Neither he nor Dana knew what to expect … perhaps it would howl, or possibly lunge at the bacon. Instead, the creature pointed at the cooler Todd had been sitting on moments before.

Todd and Dana were still fearful – I mean, there was a werewolf standing right in front of them – but mostly they were bemused. Despite a grotesque appearance, it didn’t seem particularly threatening. In fact, the poor creature invited pity.

     Maybe it wanted to be put out of its misery and knew a silver bullet was the only sure way to kill a lycanthrope.

     “Silver bullets,” it said again, pointing at the cooler.

     “Let’s give him what he wants,” Dana said. “Maybe we can distract him and make a run for it.”

     As the werewolf watched intently Todd slowly walked toward the cooler, opened the lid, then quickly backpedaled.

     “Just take it,” Todd said, grabbing Dana’s arm and continuing to retreat. “It’s all yours, buddy. It’s all yours … take it!”

     The beast lumbered toward the chest, reached into its right pocket, and pulled out a $5 bill that was then carefully placed on the ground beside the cooler. Leaning down, it reached into the ice, felt around for a moment, and pulled out two cans of Coors Light.

     “Silver bullets,” said the werewolf, holding the cans up in the air. “I ran out of beer about an hour ago and hoped I could buy a couple from you guys.

     “Appreciate it … have a nice rest of your evening.”

Squadron completes second season

The city of Birmingham’s latest professional basketball season began October 14, 2022, when the New Orleans Pelicans squared off with the Atlanta Hawks in an exhibition game at Legacy Arena. It ended on Saturday when the NBA teams’ G league affiliates – the Birmingham Squadron and College Park Skyhawks – played their season finales in the same building.

Man, it was fun … all of it.

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Spoutable @ScottAdamson, Post @scottscribe, Mastodon @SLA1960 and Twitter @adamsonsl

The Squadron’s final mission of 2022-23 was contested on Fan Appreciation Night in front of 4,119 spectators, who saw Birmingham take a 122-120 victory. The Pelicans’ understudies finished 6-12 in the preseason Showcase Cup competition and 11-21 in the regular season.

College Park closed out at 15-17.

Birmingham got 27 points from guard Kelan Martin, followed by Malcolm Hill (23), Dereon Seabron (19), James Kelly Sr. (15) and Feron Hunt (13). Seabron added 11 rebounds for a double-double in a matchup the hosts led from wire-to-wire.

Brandon Williams had a huge night for the Skyhawks, hitting for 40 points, while Donovan Williams added 25.

“It felt good to end up on a high note,” Martin said. “We’ve won a lot in the last few games, so it was nice to end the season like this. It was fun out there playing one last time.”

Heading into Saturday’s finale, Martin was the club’s top scorer for the year, popping for 20.1 points per game. His Saturday performance cemented his status as stat leader in the category.

“This season I just worked really hard on playing my game, and the work that I put in over the summer paid off,” he said. “I was consistent all year, so it was a good feeling.”

From a wins and losses perspective, it wasn’t what Squadron players, coaches or fans hoped for; Birmingham finished well below the playoff cut line. But the NBA G League is about getting players ready to step up to the next level, and in that regard, plenty was accomplished.

“I commended them on their character, which is how we put the team together, and it really showed the last 10 or so games this season,” Squadron head coach T. J. Saint said after the game. “They stuck together. Hard times create strong men, and I’ve told them that the whole season. And even though we didn’t make the playoffs and the record wasn’t what we wanted, this season will in some way pay dividends in their future.”

And if you were among the 65,682 fans who showed up for a game in Birmingham’s house, you were certainly entertained – regardless of the outcomes. This is what a developmental league is supposed to be; fast-paced, high-quality play, night in and night out.

Hunt, a forward, and guard Javonte Smart suited up for more Squadron regular season games than any other players on the roster, making the most of their minutes in 32 outings. Hunt tallied 468 points and had 164 rebounds in 985 minutes, while Smart was good for 435 points and 110 assists in 930 minutes on the floor.

Seabron – a two-way player who averaged 18.4 points per G League game – was called up to New Orleans for five games, but parlayed 27 appearances with the Squadron into 497 points as well as 932 minutes of court time. Immediately after Saturday’s win, he flew out to join the Pelicans on their West Coast swing.

The former North Carolina State guard has been a standout for the Squadron all season long, and in his penultimate regular season game had a triple-double (21 points, 15 assists and 10 rebounds) in a 139-131 road loss to the Iowa Wolves.

And before joining FC Bayern Munich in the EuroLeague, forward Zylan Cheatham was a crowd favorite, scoring 12.2 points and snatching 8.9 rebounds per game in 23 appearances.

For fans who wanted some local flavor with their pro hoops, they got it in a pair of guards – University of Alabama product and Huntsville native John Petty Jr. and UAB’s Jordan Swing, who graduated from Vestavia Hills High School.

Arguably the high point of the season came on March 7 when 7,013 fans – mostly youngsters – were at Legacy Arena for the Literacy Day showdown against the Santa Cruz Warriors. Birmingham rewarded the largest crowd of 2022-23 with a 127-112 victory.

“They got to 110 decibels that game, and we needed all of them,” Saint said.

Attendance was solid as the team averaged 2,737 fans per game. Aside from the huge Literacy Day turnout, the Squadron drew 4,000-plus fans on three home dates – including the season finale – and more than 3,000 customers twice.

Completing a second season is a first for a professional basketball team in the Magic City. Franchises in the Professional Basketball League of America, Southern Professional Basketball League and Continental Basketball Association were one-and-done, while the Squadron has been part of the city’s sportscape since 2021.

Saint hopes for even better things to come.

“Every coffee shop I go in I say, ‘Hey, are you guys going to the Squadron game?’” Saint said. “Some people knew about the team but now more people know, and all the credit goes to (general manager) Leslie Claybrook and her staff. They have been monumental in trying to spread the word, and it’s going to grow even more this summer.

“This is one of the greatest places to play basketball in the entire G League, and I’m really excited about the future.”

Walking the Dog

The old man leaned over and patted the dog on the head.

  “You’re a good boy, Hoagie,” Burtram Anchrum said. “You’re a very, very good boy. Just ignore them people … they don’t know nothin’ about nothin.”

Scott Adamson writes stuff. Follow him on Spoutable @ScottAdamson, Post @scottscribe, Mastodon @SLA1960 and Twitter @adamsonsl

  Each day Anchrum walked the same street of the small town, first passing the drug store, then the hardware store, then the fruit stand. Then he turned around and reversed course – first the fruit stand, then the hardware store, then the drug store.

  And each day, he and his faithful companion were the object of stares and the subject of shouts.

  “I know why they’re starin’ at me, Hoagie,” Anchrum said. “They’re just jealous. They see me talkin’ to my pretty little dog and they wish they was me. Every single one of ‘em. They wishes they was me. And that’s why they call you, ‘cause they want you to leave me.”

  “Hoagie!” called out Mr. Duncan, the proprietor of the fruit stand. “Stay out of the road, boy!”

  Mrs. Johnson grabbed a cantaloupe, sniffed it, and then gave it a couple of knocks with her knuckles to see if it was ripe enough.

  Then she let out a sigh.

  “Somebody needs to corral that little dog before he gets hit by a car,” she said.

  “I’m trying,” Duncan said, shaking his head. “He walks by here every day, back and forth … I guess he’s looking for his owner.

  “Poor old Mr. Anchrum dropped dead of a heart attack right in front of my store while he was walking him. He’s been gone for six months now, but it’s like that poor dog refuses to leave his side.”