To the reader: This article originally appeared in Student Life’s annual April Fools’ issue. Please don’t take anything in it as fact. We made it all up.
Jake Randle, onetime sports editor of Student Libel, has gone missing again.
Randle is the second ex-SL sports editor to flee the coop in two years. Andruw Smatter, sports editor emeritus ’99-’00, fled for the swampy backwater of Louisiana two years ago and now only contacts his former acquaintances by passing on obscene chain emails.
“When Andruw ran away, we sort of let him go,” said Ms. Goldstein, onetime sports designer. “I mean, we miss him, but not enough to go chase him down in New Orleans or anything. That’s like a two-hour flight.
“But if we lost John too? Ohhhh, the pain would be too great to bear.”
While Randle’s exact location remains unknown, many speculate that he remains in the general vicinity of St. Louis. Some have suggested the nearby Meramec Caverns in Illinois. Randle has a natural propensity for going off and hiding in caves.
“He responds to emails concerning fantasy baseball, and that’s about it,” said chief negotiator and wannabe columnist Taylor Upchurch. “We’re just going to have to work from there.”
“Personally, I’m not surprised he ran away,” said Vasant Ramamamamamamamamamamamamamurthy. “Student Libel is so going downhill, it’s not funny. Wait, maybe I meant to say Student Libel is so going downhill it is funny. Which one makes sense?”
“You morons lost another sports editor to hermit-craziness? That’s rich!” said Steve Feldman. “That’s funnier than the time I combined references from the Cardinals’ bench players of the early ’80s and popular 8-bit Nintendo video games and used them in the very same sentence! Now where did my law school books go off to?”
Investigators pinpoint Randle’s the time and date exodus as the precise moment he stopped being sports editor.
Said one eyewitness, “He just stopped right in the middle of what he was doing at the time-walking to class, I recall-dropped his books, and starting walking slowly in the opposite direction, towards the setting sun.
“He kept muttering the same word over and over again. Hierarchy, Hyperactive.no, that’s not it.maybe Heliopolis? Heirectomy? That’s not even a word! Anyway, I couldn’t tell what the hell it was. But he kept saying to himself over and over again. Must have been some sort of literary magazine.”
So John, if you’re out there reading this.come back to us, John. We don’t want to lose another sports editor. This is a very unfortunate trend you’re continuing. Who’ll be next, Oil Can Boyd? But this isn’t about the other sports editors who might suddenly lose it and run away, John. This is about you. We miss your gentle shooting touch and your kiss off the glass, if you know what we mean. We’re deeply sorry that we have offended you, and we’ll apologize profusely as soon as you tell us what exactly it was we did. Was it something we did? Or said? John. We mean it.
So put down your Baseball Encyclopedia and give us a call at the office. It would absolutely make our day if you called, John. We’re waiting by the phone, waiting for you to call me up and tell me I’m not alone. That’s a song. It’s called “Somebody to Shove,” by Soul Asylum. ‘Cause I.want somebody to shove. I need somebody to shove. I want somebody to SHOVE me. John. Are you there?