Students pinball around. Impromptu variations on tag break out. Assorted projectiles wing carelessly through the air. Amid this tumult, a few teachers pace the field, at this time of year baked to a dusty Serengeti brown.
We stalk like lions, casting side-long glances at our prey -- neither sick nor weak, but furtive. We circle patiently. The moment right, we pounce. Another misused cell phone falls into our hands to be reclaimed at the end of the day. We have, I suppose, our pride.