The Strange Case of Theodore Roosevelt

Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. was born kicking and screaming in a modestly-sized apartment in New York City on October 27, 1858. The ten-pound baby make the building quake, the nurse said. Otherwise it was an OK day.

“Teddy” was a force to be reckoned with from the very beginning. His mother, Martha, would later claim that he beat his father, Theo Sr., at arm wrestling when he was two years old. This was just some good-natured ribbing at her husband, but it could have been seen as truth if one were to see the lad at the time. The boy would eat a horse if he could. In fact, he would eat anything if you put it in front of him.

The young man was a feisty scrapper from the very beginning. However, despite his eagerness to engage in “sport”, he still retained an appreciation for the more technical aspects of both boxing and wrestling, both of which he engaged in. Theo idolized Abraham Lincoln for his wrestling proficiency and worked hard to hone his own abilities. His focus was on technical ability, as his prodigious strength needed little improvement. The man stated that he wished that he could have had the honor of building Lincoln’s log cabin – with his own two hands, of course.

Theo would occasionally try out “the flavor of the month” in between fights to see if any other physical activity would interest him if he were to tire of boxing and wrestling (although he doubted he would – just to be sure). In 1878 one of Theo’s friends convinced him to try a round of “football”. He was skeptical after trying out one of the old “flavors” – Rugby – but gave his friend the benefit of the doubt. He had a gut feeling that this activity would disappoint as the others had before it.

Shortly after their arrival on what was generously called a field, two of the other young men were seen laying on the ground, motionless and soundless. The two had earlier collided while preparing for the day’s events, striking their heads in the manner of two fighting rams. The collision rendered the two unconscious, a condition from which they never awoke. Their deaths caused outrage in the NYC community.

Theo politely declined to participate. He was rumored to be able to catch a bullet with his teeth (and then subsequently crush said bullet with said teeth), but he was no fool. He and his friend John left the field in disappointment that the sport had claimed the lives of two promising young men. They knew that boxing was by no means a safe sport, but at least that came down to two men who were ready to engage in such a violent manner. Boxers weren’t hurling themselves at each other in droves as though they were charging with bayonets.

The outrage caused by this event would snowball over the next few years, until the mayor of New York City banned the sport. Other cities around NYC soon followed, with the rest of the country eventually deciding to ban as well.

In 1884 Theo enlisted in the army, ever eager to serve his country. After one year of dreadful peace boredom he was discharged due to constant “contests of gentlemanly sport”.

Theo returned home without a clue of what to do next. His friend, John, was also wandering aimlessly at the moment of his good friend’s return, having failed to perfect his formula for a drink he had been tinkering with for years.

Although a certain book would soon change that, engaging the pair in a new venture that would make a “Mr. Topffer” say “what took you Americans so long?”