Crumping

Long story short, I’m standing on the parking lot of my local parochial school, waiting for some autographs.

Spotting a few of my soccer players, I assign them a simple task: signing some extra soccer balls, which’ll be forwarded to kids in an Iraqi village.

While waiting, more than a bit impatiently, one of them begins to move in a way that I’ve never quite seen before.

“Brian, what are you doing?”

“I’m crumping.”

“You’re crumping?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I get a shot of that?”

“Aw, me? No way!”

“C’mon. One snap.”

“Okay!”

Snap.