Operation Get This Man an SC Shirt

The greatest homeless man in America. Yes, greater than Canseco.

No, this has nothing to do with sports or music or light beer commercials or any of the other things that we typically discuss here at Gainesville’s favorite Internet watering hole.

It’s about a homeless man.

I’m sorry. Unless you want to read 750 words about high school soccer or the definition of journalistic objectivity, it’s the best I can do right now. Trust me, it’s worth it.

And I know what you’re thinking.

“Bryan, which member of Gainesville’s excessively expansive homeless dude community are you talking about? Is it the Gainesville Rasta? Is it Squirrel? Is it the guy that tried to sell you Zantac bars at the ATM tonight?”

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

While Gainesville is plentiful with cardboard signs, sketchy Vietnam vets and drug addicts, none of them hold a candle to the man that’s simply known in Tampa as “Florida Avenue Dancin’ Man.”

On any given day in the 813, you can drive down Florida Avenue (duh) and see him in action. And the show changes almost every day. Sometimes there’s a cane, sometimes there’s a creative sign, sometimes he’s rocking the finest sports coat the nearest thrift store offers.

He dances from the time the sun hits pavement until his jurisdiction is only lit by street lights and nearby John Adcock Stadium. He dances past fast-food restaurants and fancy car lots and run-down motels that were strictly built for harlots and drug deals.

Summer and winter. Rain or shine.

The honks of cars only entice him, making his steps higher and faster. He’s even recently expanded his territory to Nebraska Avenue (speaking of hookers) and revealed his “given name” (Michael McKinney). And his popularity has earned him an imitator and an occasional sidekick.

Now as usual, the mission here is not nearly as sweet as you might think. After all, this is SC, not Oprah.

I’m not looking to pass out money or get him a job bussing tables at the Cuban Sandwich Shop.

And he might not accept it anyways. A couple weeks ago after stopping at a red light, my cousin called to inform me that the hobo Michael Jackson was handing out dollars to stopped cars. Reverse psychology, much?

No, my mission is simple. Get Florida Avenue Dancin’ Man a piece of Florida’s latest fashion craze, the SC T-Shirt.

The journey will be documented here on this very site. Whenever I get to Tampa and reward him for his awesomeness with 100 percent pre-shrunk cotton, Casualtists will know with visual evidence.

Maybe he’ll throw it on over his John Lynch jersey and provide the greatest marketing ploy that we have ever seen. Maybe he’ll throw it away. Maybe this will somehow get him the fame that that “golden voice” bastard that still hits the crack pipe and beats his family doesn’t deserve.

Seriously, I had a nightmare the other night that Ted Williams somehow got invited on a road trip that I was on and it was freaking terrifying.

Okay, so maybe I left something out.

[A quick Hillsborough County Sheriff's Office search tells us Mr. McKinney has three DUIs (bike?) and cocaine and marijuana charges, so technically he's no different than Williams, BUT DAMMIT THAT'S NOT THE POINT!]

Who knows? Who cares?

After all, FADM only dances because “God tells him not to be lazy,” and maybe because of a little booger sugar, too.

Let the mission begin.

-Bryan