Dutch[Man] [10.17.08]

Every day I walk across campus I am thankful, for I hold within me one of the deepest and juiciest secrets of the valley: the identity of the Dutchman. Of course, I'm not about to go posting that on the global web, but I will enlighten the reader on one of the biggest sacrifices of the Dutchman: the Walk of Death. It may sound complicated, but in all actuality, it is quite simple. Geographically, the Walk of Death is the distance it takes to walk from Arnold to the soccer field one way. Sure, it does not sound like much, but I was promised by the Dutchman himself that it is indeed a pilgrimage, given the immense amount of weight that the disguise imposes on its inhabitant. Not to mention the fact that once one walks from the Arnold to the soccer field, one must also walk back. One particular day, the Dutchman had to make an appearance at a soccer game, so he found a discrete location in Arnold, became the Dutchman, and began his trek to the soccer field. When he got there, his normal duties ensued: he clapped, danced, and silently cheered until his break, which sent him right back to Arnold. But soon enough, he was back at the soccer field to cheer on the team. When he arrived, children from the community were playing on the field during halftime. Finally, the Dutchman thought, I can take a breather. However, someone on the event staff had another idea: "What do you think you're doing Dutchman? Go on, get out there and play with those kids!" So he huffed, and he puffed, and he kicked that soccer ball around despite his 40-pound head.