Sometime in the summer between my high school graduation and my first semester of college, I visited the college I'd be attending to acquaint myself with the campus. At the athletics complex, I saw that the basketball coach had just stepped out and left open the door to his office. No one else was around so I went in. Under a table was a pair of sneakers. But lying atop those was a neatly folded jockstrap. I picked it up. It was still damp. Then I sniffed it. Sweaty, with a medicinal smell. Maybe jock-itch spray. I guess he had worn it earlier in the day. I'd seen the coach's picture in the sports page. He was a trim, blond middle-aged man. I took the jock and kept it to this day in a Ziploc bag. It's somewhere around, so I'll try to find it and post a photo of it.
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| The very owner of said jockstrap. Still trim and hot nearly twenty years later. |
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| The label |
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Still looking good after nineteen years.
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