Indianapolis Colts Football

New Day In Indy

The sun comes up on an April morning.  At first all seems quiet at W. 56^th street headquarters.  But something is stirring.  There has been activity here before, but not quite like this…Something new…something different…a new scent perhaps.  Something other than the traditional bacon egg and sausage biscuit now wafts through the air.

“Feed the beast”.  I hear someone say from behind closed doors.  But no one quite knows what it wants.  “Feed the beast!” again a little louder.  But no one knows what it needs.  “Feed the beast!!!” louder still until a voice responds “I know just what to give it.”

Suddenly a noise explodes from the building like a great monster awakening from centuries of hibernation.  I become a little worried the Kraken is real.  But I know it is just a myth.  Clearly there is some non-mythical creature here now, some new monster created for the express purpose of… of what?

I see the door to the facility open a crack and out comes bits and pieces of a Titan – scary really that so little is left.  I try to catch a glance of the beast inside but to no avail as the door slams shut.  Something is still stirring inside. I am caught off guard by the sudden onset of the howls of a jungle cat.

“Release the beast now” a voice bellows from inside, and the howls are replaced by the stomping and braying of a monster.  “This is no ordinary horse” I think as I see the door once again open a crack as the hide of a Jaguar is launched beside the Titan.  I would really like a look at this animal now.  My curiosity as to what could be inside turns my own innards around.

Then I realize the animal has not finished.  I hear more bucking and braying followed by shouts of…of…fear maybe?  I am not sure.  The muffled yells fade and the door opens for a third time.  It appears to be a Texan, caught in his own rope, hopping out the door until the end of the rope appears to snag and he gets yanked to the ground and dragged back into the building.

“Oh, this can’t be good” I think out loud “at least not for those Texans”.  After a few more hollers and whimpers the building falls silent.  I wait a while, hoping to catch a glance of this new Colt that could cause such destruction to Titans, Jaguars and Texans.  But as the morning passes my innards focus more on my own instinctive needs and I don’t believe I can wait any longer.  I turn to go, pausing a second to listen once more for the monster that is growing within the building, but the silence is deafening.

I know then that I must plan a trip to Anderson in August to see the beast in action.  I don’t want to be in the dark when the new dawn rises.  But for now, that bacon egg and sausage biscuit is calling my name.