Pete's Expert Summary
My human, in a fit of what can only be described as profound misunderstanding of his audience, has procured a "Franklin Sports Kids Football Target Toss Game." It is a large, inflatable plastic column with holes, presumably a training device for the small, loud humans who occasionally infest my domain. From my perspective, it’s an oversized, air-filled sentinel whose primary purpose is to occupy a perfectly good sunbeam. Its inflatable nature is slightly tempting—the hiss of the pump was a novel sound, and the taut PVC surface presents a tantalizing challenge for a well-placed claw. The most intriguing feature is its weighted, water-filled base, which promises a wobbly, reactive opponent. The included brown "footballs" are of a bat-able size, though I suspect they are merely a distraction from the main event. It could be a magnificent waste of my time, or it could be the most resilient sparring partner I've had since the drapes were replaced.
Key Features
- FOOTBALL ON THE GO: The inflatable 3-hole football target stores and travels easily, making it perfect to take on the go!
- PRACTICE & RECREATIONAL USE: Turn the basement, backyard, park or beach into your own football field. Or, set it up at your next birthday party or neighborhood gathering for some friendly competition!
- HOURS OF FUN: Whether you want to be the next great quarterback or just have a good time, this set offers football fun for you, your family, and all your friends!
- STURDY CONSTRUCTION: Made of durable PVC to stand up to the strongest of throws and kicks! The water-filled base adds additional stability so when the target is knocked down it pops right back up!
- SET INCLUDES: (1) 45” inflatable 3-hole football target with water-fillable base, (2) 7.25” rotationally molded PVC footballs, (1) sports ball hand air pump with needle
A Tale from Pete the Cat
The ceremony began with a strange, wheezing ritual. My human operated a small, handheld device that breathed life into a flat, plastic skin, which rose from the rug like some gaudy, synthetic god of the gridiron. It stood there, forty-five inches of vinyl hubris, its three circular mouths gaping in a silent, unending scream. It was a monolith, a totem of poor taste, and it was squarely in the middle of my afternoon patrol route between the sofa and the food dish. This aggression would not stand. I approached with the cautious grace befitting my station, my white-tipped tail twitching in silent calculation. It smelled of a factory, a faint chemical tang that wrinkled my nose. I gave its base a tentative pat. It swayed, then corrected itself with a smug, watery gurgle. The human then tossed one of the brown, oblong things at it, and the projectile passed cleanly through the middle hole. The monolith wobbled violently but, like some cursed clown, popped right back up, defiant and upright. This was no mere target. This was an adversary. My initial probing attacks were met with this same infuriating resilience. A full-speed charge resulted in a satisfying thud and a dramatic lean, but it always sprang back, mocking my efforts. A tactical retreat to the top of the armchair gave me a new perspective. I was treating it like a stationary object, but its soul was in its wobble. I waited for the human to toss another football. As the monolith rocked back from the impact, I launched myself, a silent gray blur, and landed squarely on its "shoulders." We tipped over together, a chaotic heap of cat and vinyl. For a glorious moment, it was defeated. But then, with a slow, gurgling sigh, it began to right itself, lifting me with it. I was riding a bucking, plastic beast. I dug my claws in—just a little, for purchase—and rode the wave as it settled back into its upright position. The small humans shrieked with what they interpreted as delight. They did not understand the gravity of the situation. I had not merely attacked the monolith; I had conquered it. I had climbed it. From my new perch atop this wobbly tower, I surveyed my kingdom. The view was improved. The toy was… adequate. It could stay. For now, it served as a fine throne.
