Several ago I decided to step outside for a minute. The sun had gone down and it was mostly dark; the air was crisp and there was a slight breeze. The field presented a pretty, refreshing scene. Then I heard engines roaring, and noticed the cars down by the baseball fields. Go-peds and dirt bikes are bad enough -- please tell me they're not driving in the field! I thought. Then I distinctly saw the truck go rambling up the hill. This was one of the most offensive transgressions against the field I've ever seen. Again, a scooter with a noisy gas engine is bad enough, but a truck? You do not go driving a stupid truck through my field! They had to hear from me on this. I ran, uncertain of whether I would ever catch up to them. Fortunately for me, the truck stopped near the top of the hill and stayed put as I approached. I walked up the hill behind it, and it became clear why it had stayed in the same place -- it was stuck. This made me a little bit happy, I freely admit. I walked up to the driver's window. A teen aged male idiot was at the wheel, spinning the tires uselessly. "What are you doing?" I asked.
Something to the effect of "Hey, dude, what's up?" was his answer. I said that this is not an off road area, and asked what he was doing with a truck in here. I didn't get a clear answer. He got out to look at the truck. It was badly stuck, high-centered on a snow drift, with the front bumper bashed off. I secretly found this to be satisfying.
"I didn't think the snow was so deep here, did you?"
Well, yes, you idiot, I should think that in the middle of one of the snowiest winters in our lifetimes that would be perfectly obvious. I gave a token show of neighborliness by pushing as he tried spinning his wheels again. I conjectured that it would take a large vehicle with a wench to get it unstuck. Another teenage idiot walked up, this one from the direction of the tennis courts. I could see that there was some commotion over there as well. He explained that the other car I had seen -- a jeep -- and an ATV were stuck as well. The two idiots left, walking down the hill, apparently going after a shovel, which obviously wouldn't help.
I decided to check out the rest of the mess. Sure enough, the ATV was stuck in the ditch between the tennis courts and the jeep was high-centered in a snow drift just beyond them. Here were three more teenage/young adult male idiots, two wrestling with the ATV and the third in the jeep. I started talking to them; apparently the plan had been to have some fun off-roading through our park in the ATV, and that when awry when it got stuck. Then idiot 1 called idiots 2-5 for help, and they brought the jeep and truck and proceeded to get them hopelessly stuck as well. I was conflicted, enjoying the sweet justice of the moment, but decided it would be good to help out -- at least if they were unstuck, they might leave. Surprisingly, three of us managed to get the ATV out. They tried to use it to help the jeep by attaching a rope to it and pulling, but all they accomplished was digging yet more ruts into the the grass with spinning tires. They gave up, and idiot 1 left on the ATV, apparently seeking more help. They were actually talking about bringing in another truck. Stupidity, thy name is drunk teenage male. (Could they all claim the excuse of being drunk? Either way, they were still being idiots.) I had to tell them before I left that this is a park; they're not supposed to have vehicles here, and they're making ruts in the grass and a lot of noise. Not cool. That got a blank stare. I wished them luck and went home, thinking I had half a mind to call the police. I did, and it turned out I wasn't the first! Most of the neighborhood had surely noticed. Units were already en route.
I'm sure they were caught -- the jeep and truck especially were not going anywhere. They deserved a ticket, for disrespecting the field, the park, and the neighborhood, and for generally acting like teenage male idiots. They also deserved to pay for the wrecker the city must have had to call in to free the the jeep and truck. A few days later I saw the truck parked on the road by its owner's house, bumper still detached. I wish I knew exactly how it played out. Hopefully the experience taught them a lesson. To echo my dad's sentiment, maybe next time they'll just take a walk.