Under that in much smaller type, the legend continued: "This is a very old t-shirt."

He had his wallet in his left rear pocket.

"He's got his wallet in his back pocket," said Vincent Josephs. "You see that? He's got his wallet in his back pocket. And the sucker's wearing chinos.

46

And loafers. This frigging hoople's wearing loafers. Is that what you brought me up here to see?"

He turned in his seat in the stands and looked through his Gucci semi-tint glasses with the wraparound frames and the easy-ride earpiece at the man sitting next to him. Wally Mills was a track coach who had had three athletes competing in the preliminary Olympic trials in the 800-meter event. But as he had told his wife, "They couldn't beat me," and they had fallen by the wayside early. But he had seen Remo Black run twice, and so he had gotten hold of Vincent Josephs.

"That's part of his charm," Mills told Josephs. "I'm telling you this guy is not to be believed. Last week, in Portland, he ran away from the field like they was standing still. A new world's record, he coulda had. He was running like in a daze, and then, I swear to God to you, he slowed down and let them catch up and he just trotted along and finished second."

"So what? He ran out of gas," Josephs said.

Mills shook his head. "Like in horse racing, Mr. Josephs, he was full of run at the end. I had the glasses on him and he deliberately let everybody catch up. It was like he suddenly realized he was going to set a record and he didn't want to."

"All right," Josephs said. "So he's fast. That makes him a fast kook. Look at that t-shirt. That's like wearing a sail. And the guy's old. What's he doing with these kids? He's gonna have a frigging coronary. I'm just glad we ain't got him signed up by now."

"I swear to you, Mr. Josephs, this guy isn't even out of breath at the end of a race. He doesn't even walk around to catch his breath. These twenty-year-olds are all huffing and puffing and gasping and choking and he goes over and sits down and he looks