Yesterday, while watching the Michigan State vs. Northwestern game, I saw that Northwestern had someone by the name of 'Kafka' on thier team. The thought of (the) Kafka playing football struck me as being inherently funny, and that second half Northwestern meltdown could concievably be described as Kafaesque. I could picture Kafka leading his Northwestern team downfield and into the Spartan red zone. And then...
Before the Endzone stands a linebacker on guard. To this linebacker Kafka comes begging for admittance to the Endzone. But the linebacker says he cannot admit Kafka at the moment. Kafka, on reflection, asks if he will be allowed, then, to enter later. 'It is possible,' answers the linebacker, 'but not at this moment.' Since the way leading to the Endzone stands open as usual and the linebacker steps to one side, Kafka bends forward to peer through the goalpost. When the linebacker sees that, he laughs and says: 'If you are so strongly tempted, try to get by without my permission. But note that I am powerful. And I am only the lowest linebacker on the Spartan defense.' This is a difficulty which Kafka had not expected to meet, the Endzone, he thought, should be open to every man and at all times, but when he looked more closely at the linebacker, with his Spartan uniform, and his muscled physique, he decided that he had better wait until he got permission to enter. So the linebacker gives him a stool and lets him sit on the five yard line. There he sat waiting for days and years...
years go by, etc., etc.
...'Everyone strives to score a touchdown,' says Kafka, 'how does it come about, then, that in all these years no one has sought to enter the Endzone but me?' The linebacker percieves that Kafka is at the end of his strength and that his hearing is failing, so he bellows into his ear: 'No one but you could score a touchdown in this Endzone, since this Endzone was inteded only for you. I am now going to sack you and turn the ball over on downs.'