219 Chapters
Medium 9781574413205

Deer Leaves

Edited by Kenneth L. Untiedt University of North Texas Press PDF

7978-ch02.pdf

10/6/11

8:15 AM

Page 99

DEER LEAVES by Bob Dunn

I’m not sure of the first time I went to the deer lease; probably it was in 1970, when I turned nine years old. It seemed that it was just always there. Early on, I called it “deer leaves” because that’s what I thought the grown-ups were saying.

I remember waking up one morning after Dad’s return from the hunt to find a deer hanging from a tree in the front yard of our home in Garland. Back then, the neighborhood butcher shop would process the kill for us, but later medical concerns over crosscontamination of retail meat market equipment led to a law prohibiting the practice. After that, we did our own butchering, and we always had backstraps to chicken-fry and plenty of meat to barbecue, though we never mastered sausage making.

Besides being a great place to hunt, the lease was an easy, twohour drive from home. Dad worked nights, so we could leave after school on Friday and still have some daylight left when we got there. In those days, I thought more about landmarks along the highway than of time and distance. Shortly after leaving Garland we would pass Big Town, where we’d sometimes see Santa arrive by helicopter for a pre-Christmas visit. Then we’d drive into downtown Dallas, which would disappear as the roadway dipped into the “canyon” and the only tunnel I knew existed.

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Medium 9780253010285

6 A Wop and a Wimp and a Moon

Mike Roos Quarry Books ePub

Jim Roos was surprised the first Saturday in July to see Pete Gill at his door again, only a week after they had settled his contract, dressed in a tee shirt, soiled khaki work pants, and mud-caked black Converse All Stars.

“Here I am, Jim.” Pete stood on the front stoop outside Jim’s house, hands outstretched like a singer, grinning broadly.

“What brings you to town, Pete? House hunting?”

“Got a place, Jim. We’re all moved in.”

With a glance at the mud on Pete’s shoes, knowing Betty had just vacuumed, Jim stepped outside. “You don’t waste time, do you?” Jim laughed.

“Ready to get started, Jim. That’s the way I am. When I’m done one place, I’m done, and I move on. ‘Don’t look back,’ Satchel Paige said. ‘Something might be gaining on ya.’”

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“Your new place.”

“Oh, uh, Jasper.”

“Jasper?” Jim replied uncomfortably.

“You know Wop Fritsch’s bar there, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Jim grew even more uncomfortable. He’d never been inside Fritsch’s Tavern, but he’d been by there and knew its reputation as the Dubois County gambling headquarters. “Are you living there?”

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Medium 9781574413205

Fishing Texas: A Passion Passed on by My Dad

Edited by Kenneth L. Untiedt University of North Texas Press PDF

7978-ch01.pdf

10/6/11

8:14 AM

Page 51

FISHING TEXAS: A PASSION

PASSED ON BY MY DAD by Jim Harris

In any one genre of Texas fishing, I’m going to come up short, lacking in enthusiasm and skills to hold any fishing records. Say, large mouth bass fishing in tournament-quality lakes. I’ve done some of it over the years, and even been in the same boat with professional fishermen piloting bass boats that cost $40,000. But I’ve not done enough of it to say I fished that way with a passion and wanted to do it night and day.

Or fishing for large catfish in a river. I’ve done a little of it, even in some places using old gallon milk jugs tied together with fifty yards of trotline weighted down with treble hooks loaded with chicken gizzards. I can truly enjoy floating down a slow-moving river checking lines, some of them hanging from a tree branch, but

I wouldn’t say that I ever developed an insatiable desire for that kind of fishing, either.

And I enjoy wading out into the surf with a floating shrimp bucket tied to a belt and casting a handful of lead weights out into the gulf as far as my 1950s saltwater rod and reel will allow me. In those salty waters, I’ve caught my share of speckled trout and a fair number of red fish over the years in this summertime ritual, but I never dreamed about the sunburned arms and the spray in the face on winter nights. If I ever had dreams about the jellyfish that one year grabbed hold of my right calf while I waded in the surf, those dreams were nightmares that I thankfully forgot by morning.

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Medium 9780253014993

3. Neoliberal Masculinity: The Government of Play and Masculinity in E-Sports

Thomas P Oates Indiana University Press ePub

Gerald Voorhees

We’re at a point where only about forty people in the U.S. can make a living playing video games. I’d like to get it to a hundred. I think we’re a year or two away from that.

SUNDANCE DIGIOVANNI, quoted in Richard Nieva,
“Video Gaming on the Pro Tour for Glory but Little
Gold,” New York Times, November 28, 2012

While scholars have begun to investigate the professionalization of gaming, I take it on only to the extent that it is an exemplary site for thinking about the sportification of digital games, a broader sociocultural phenomenon that emerges at the juncture of neoliberal rationality and distinct – often competing – constructions of masculinity circulating in contemporary Western culture. Indeed, the sportification of digital games has led to the creation of national leagues, international tournaments, and corporate-sponsored teams of professional cyberathletes, but it is not rooted in these institutions or in the professionalization of players; rather, they are both effects of the hegemony of the sportive mentality. The games are objective things defined by protocological affordances and constrains, but their status as sport and the practices constituting the process of sportification are a result of the meaning attributed to them by player and fan communities.1 In this chapter I examine the cultural implications of the figuration of digital games as sports, often called e-sports, focusing on the production of an intelligible subject position at the nexus of neoliberalism and masculinity.

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Medium 9781574411607

Detail maps

Geraldine Ellis Watson University of North Texas Press PDF

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