And he didn’t. After a moment, he got down, high-fived his black-shirted buddies and relit his cigar.
“But if we deconstruct the social, political, and cultural hegemony of the haves, we can enfranchise the have-nots,” said one of the guys behind Walter.
The Red Sox went down 1-2-3 in the bottom of the fifth.
Without thinking, Walter got up and went to the concession stand. He bought the biggest beer he could and sat with it between his legs for the sixth, seventh, and eighth innings. The Red Sox scored an insurance run in the seventh and then surrendered two runs in the top of the ninth. The Yankees fans were as loud as ever and the guy in front of Walter threw some more peanuts.
Through all of this, the eggheads behind Walter were using words like post-structural, valence, and pluralism.
As the game headed into the bottom of the ninth, Walter stood on his chair. With trembling hands, he raised the sweaty wax cup and held it over the eggheads behind him. The crowd—especially those nearby—applauded. He turned around and waved the beer over the heads of the black-shirted Yankees fans in front of him, prompting the crowd to cheer even louder.