UPHILL
one-act play
by David Lefkowitz
David Lefkowitz
lefkowitz.dave@gmail.com
davelefkowitz.org
@radiodave2
© David Lefkowitz all rights reserved.
UPHILL
TIME AND PLACE:
The feel is modern but not fixed to a year or location. In fact, Uphill may be played on an empty stage.
NOTES:
One actor plays Sisyphus throughout, whereas two or three different actors may play the reporter.
CHARACTERS
Sisyphus – An exceptional athlete
Reporter – An unexceptional journalist
SCENE I
Lights go up on SISYPHUS, a virile athlete in his thirties, wearing sports gear, stretching, and doing conditioning exercises.
After a few moments, the REPORTER, an eager newbie in his 20s, enters, notebook and pen in hand. He watches for a bit and makes notes.
Sisyphus finishes one round of exercises and takes some breaths.
SISYPHUS
You press?
REPORTER
Yes, sir. The Courier.
SISYPHUS
Courier, huh? What happened to Katsaros?
REPORTER
Oh, he retired last year.
SISYPHUS
Did he? Good. They should have put him out to pasture long ago.
REPORTER
He was pretty hard on you.
SISYPHUS
It was my first year. First time out of the box. This was three years ago. And what does he write?
REPORTER
I think it was —
SISYPHUS
This no-talent hack writes, “In fine, fit fettle though he be…”
REPORTER
I know. He was kind of addicted to alliteration.
SISYPHUS
“In fine, fit fettle though he be, Sisyphus, a newcomer to the grand Greek tradition of Boulder Escalation, strikes me as having the muscles but not the mettle to get the job done.” The muscles but not the mettle.
REPORTER
I read that. For background.
SISYPHUS
Where did he get the nerve? The hubris to pronounce me unfit at my very first meet.
REPORTER
He could be harsh. But hey, that year, you made it about halfway.
SISYPHUS
I know I did. I know exactly what I did. I was trying to push a boulder up and up and up the hill, and the whole time, in my mind, It’s Katsaros says this, Katsaros says that. I’m a blowhard, I’m a braggart, I’m inadequate because I have the muscles but not the mettle.
REPORTER
Right, but you came back the next year and still didn’t quite —
SISYPHUS
I made it up much higher. But I had blister on my hand, and I just couldn’t endure —
REPORTER
I know. I read all the stories. Last year, too. You got within twenty meters.
SISYPHUS
Achh, I don’t know what that was. Some jinx. Some trick of the wind.
REPORTER
May I quote you on that?
SISYPHUS
You can quote me saying that this year, I am better, stronger, mentally ready. Anyone betting against me this year will be crying for mercy at Mount Olympus.
REPORTER
Have you changed your strategy?
SISYPHUS
I have. Instead of pushing from the center of my chest, I’m going to use my right shoulder. It’ll give me much more torque and a way to get under the last third of boulder.
(the Reporter reads from his notebook)
REPORTER
Would you say that the gods are in your favor today?
SISYPHUS
I never second guess the gods. The temperature’s cool, my body’s strong, and I have the will.
(sound of a bell ringing, off.
Sisyphus readies to exit)
Time for me to prove Katsaros wrong. Good to meet you. Hey, am I your first story?
REPORTER
I’ve written a couple of calendar things, but you’re my first big scoop.
SISYPHUS
Congrats! Watch me make you famous.
REPORTER
Ha! I’ll settle for turning in my copy and getting paid. I’ll leave you the glory.
SISYPHUS
Suit yourself. Anyway –
(Sisyphus motions with his thumb that he’s going)
REPORTER
Good luck to you.
SISYPHUS
Won’t need it. It’s going to happen.
(Sisyphus exits to begin the competition.
We now hear the sound of a stadium crowd cheering in anticipation.
The Reporter moves to the edge of the stage and cranes his neck to watch.
The crowd cheers and cheers and then…
awwww…disappointment.
The reporter clucks, then writes in his journal as he exits.)
SCENE II
(Lights signal a time shift.
After a moment, enter Sisyphus.
He wears a different athletic outfit but hasn’t aged.
He begins his exercises.
Soon the reporter returns.
He is now noticeably older, perhaps with a short beard.
After a beat:)
SISYPHUS
You again, huh?
REPORTER
Me always.
SISYPHUS
How long have you been on this beat now?
REPORTER
Twenty-one years.
SISYPHUS
And they punish you with me?
REPORTER
Ha! Well, At least I don’t have to cover discus or javelin. Plus, they figure I’ve known you so long, there’s a human interest angle even in that.
SISYPHUS
I remember your first story about me. It was the year my shoulder went out.
REPORTER
I know. Bad break.
SISYPHUS
I eased up just a little to take a breath, and the rock slammed straight into my upper arm.
REPORTER
Amazing that you made it back next year.
SISYPHUS
I don’t quit. Sisyphus Never Quits.
REPORTER
Ha, that was one of my headlines.
SISYPHUS
I know. I cut it out and posted it in my weight room over the barbells.
REPORTER
Wow. Thanks. Not used to athletes using ME for inspiration.
SISYPHUS
Well, you’re not like that jerk, Katsaros.
REPORTER
Katsaros, I remember him: the guy I took over for. Gods, was it really two decades ago? I feel so old.
SISYPHUS
You should get some exercise Keeps you in fine, fit fettle.
(the Reporter and Sisyphus laugh)
REPORTER & SISYPHUS
Katsaros!
REPORTER
You haven’t aged a day, though.
(Sisyphus points to his body)
Not out here.
(then to his head)
In here, though. I’ve aged plenty.
REPORTER
People can be cruel.
SISYPHUS
sometimes I don’t blame them. Twenty-three years you try and and try and try.
REPORTER
And you get so close. Sometimes.
SISYPHUS
Last year. A hair’s breadth from the top.
(enraged)
Gaah!
REPORTER
It was a freak accident. A bird startled you.
SISYPHUS
This black wing swept across my eyes.
REPORTER
And down you went.
SISYPHUS
People mocked and called me “birdbrain.” “Failures of a feather fall together.”
REPORTER
That wasn’t my headline.
SISYPHUS
I know. You’ve always given me a fair shake.
(laughs)
You may be my only fan.
REPORTER
Ehh… I can’t say I’m a fan. Objectivity and all that. Let’s just say, if you win —
SISYPHUS
WHEN I win.
REPORTER
When you make it happen, I won’t begrudge you the happiest celebration this side of Olympus. I’ll even raise the first toast.
SISYPHUS
Well, then get the wine ready, because it’s today. I feel it.
(the Reporter goes back to note-taking mode)
REPORTER
What’s special about today? New technique? Some interesting wrinkle?
SISYPHUS
Shh. It’s a secret. Every year I tell you my strategy. This year, I keep mum. Just for me.
(A bell rings, off)
Destiny calls.
REPORTER
Do your best. Hey, I never got to ask: when you win, what then? What will you do?
SISYPHUS
No idea.
(he laughs)
Take up discus.
REPORTER
Or javelin.
SISYPHUS
Or write about sports for a newspaper.
REPORTER
Ha, tell me you won’t sink that low!
SISYPHUS
Fair enough. Maybe I’ll just keep pushing a rock up a hill.
REPORTER
And I’ll keep pushing a thousand words onto a piece of paper. Not so different.
SISYPHUS
At least you finish your column.
(beat)
REPORTER
Good luck.
(They shake hands.
Sisyphus exits.
The reporter stands at the edge of the stage to watch. There is crowd noise, though not as loud and boisterous as in the first scene.
The Reporter gazes hopefully towards the event.
Then, as ever, disappointment.
The reporter sighs and takes a moment before starting to write his column.
He exits writing.)
SCENE III
(Lights signal another time shift.
Sisyphus returns once more, again in a different outfit but still looking youthful. He exercises.
Enter the Reporter, slowly and with a cane. He has a white beard now.
He watches and removes a pen and notebook from his pocket, but he’s shaky.
Sisyphus stops his exercises to steady the Reporter and help him)
REPORTER
Thanks.
SISYPHUS
It’s good to see you, Theo.
REPORTER
You, too, champ.
SISYPHUS
How long has it been now?
REPORTER
Since I started? Forty years.
SISYPHUS
Has it really?
REPORTER
And I’ve never missed a meet.
SISYPHUS
Ha, there are a few times I wished you’d missed. Almost every time.
REPORTER
The last couple, you came so close. Like two years ago, I thought you had it, I really did.
SISYPHUS
It grazed the top. Actually touched the apex, but then the gravel slipped under it. I almost cried. Don’t write that.
REPORTER
What can I write?
SISYPHUS
Write that Sisyphus, after forty years of attempts and thrilling near misses, finally achieved perfection. He pushed the rock to the top of the mountain. He did not waver. He did not doubt. He did not fail.
REPORTER
You believe this is your time?
SISYPHUS
I know it. I have been righteous and careful and —
REPORTER
Do you think the gods owe you? After all this time, will they work for you instead of against you?
SISYPHUS
You know I can’t — won’t — answer that.
REPORTER
Well, do you have a specific technique this year that —
SISYPHUS
Yes. Instead of putting the weight front and center, I’ll be angling towards my left shoulder. That’ll give me more mobility.
REPORTER
But back when you used your right shoulder —
SISYPHUS
That was years ago. I was a kid. I mean, are you writing the same things now that you were decades ago?
REPORTER
Kind of.
SISYPHUS
Well, that’s a shame. Switch it up a little, why dont’cha?
REPORTER
As a matter of fact —
SISYPHUS
Life’s too short to be doing the same things over and over again the same way.
REPORTER
(chuckling)
I guess it is. Still, I’m gonna miss this.
(Sisyphus stretches)
SISYPHUS
Who wouldn’t miss this? The fresh air, the crowd, the sport. Admit it, you love it as much as I do. And that moment when I get that rock way up on that —
REPORTER
This is my last year.
SISYPHUS
— hill and stand there… What?
REPORTER
I’m retiring.
SISYPHUS
Are you okay, buddy? You’re not —
REPORTER
No, I’m fine. It’s just time.
(Sisyphus is shaken but shakes it off)
SISYPHUS
Well, then you picked the best time to do it because this is it.
(bell rings, off)
You will have the best day and the biggest story and the finest memory of your life. Something to tell your grandkids: “I followed this athlete year after year. And each time he came this-close to godlike. Until one day, that last day. The world shook. And your grandpa Theo was there.”
(The Reporter holds out his hand)
REPORTER
It’s been a pleasure. And an honor.
(they shake hands)
SISYPHUS
Thank you. Really, thank you. And now…onward.
(Sisyphus exits.
The Reporter hobbles to the edge of the stage.
We hear some crowd noise, faint and disinterested.
The Reporter cranes his neck to see)
REPORTER
Come on. You can do this. Get your shoulder in. That’s it! That’s it! Just a bit more! You’ve got it! YOU’VE GOT IT! YOU –
(“awws” and mocking laughter from the small crowd.
The Reporter starts to write but stops.
He cries.
When he recovers, he writes, then reads aloud:)
“Once again, victory was in the mighty grasp of Sisyphus, and once again, the sublime was snatched from him in the final seconds. Was it fate? A miscalculation? A cruel joke on a good man? Or was it the gods giving us one more reprieve because they know that as thrilling as victory might have seemed today, after all these tries, it will be even more stunning next year. This reporter has a good feeling about that. Wait and see. Next year.
(The Reporter lowers his notebook and gazes off towards the hill.
Lights slowly down.)
END OF PLAY
(c)2017 David Lefkowitz
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