Josh Shaw’s Original Story vs. Josh Shaw’s New Story

By now, you’ve probably heard the story of Josh Shaw, the 5th year senior for the USC Trojans, who injured himself either jumping from a 3rd floor balcony while trying to save the life of his drowning 7-year-old nephew or jumping from a 3rd floor balcony after breaking into his girlfriend’s apartment. Tomato, tomahto.

Being the unbiased journalists that we are at Korked Bats, we decided to gather both stories, share them exactly like they were told, and allow you, the general public, to form your own opinion.

Josh Shaw’s Original Story:

Josh Shaw woke up in his apartment bedroom. An apartment (that houses Josh, his mother, sister, and nephew) in which USC can neither confirm, nor deny was paid for by the school’s athletic department. Josh’s eyes crept open slowly. His intuition told him that something was wrong. In fact, he hadn’t felt this way since the Trojans hired Lane Kiffin. His eyes glared at the ceiling above. He had a feeling in his gut. Everything seemed to be just a bit too quiet. It nearly as quiet as a USC basketball home game.

It was then when he heard a scream. It was a child’s scream.

Josh shot up out of bed. Panic trickled up his spine. The feeling you get when you’re about to lose at home to Washington State. Pure fear and terror. Josh grabbed his USC Trojans 2004 BCS National Champions t-shirt that he got for .55 cents at Goodwill. Guess that’s the going rate for all memorabilia from that season, now. Josh began putting the shirt on as he raced towards the door.

He heard the scream again.

Josh stopped and turned to look out his third story bedroom window. He had no time to run all the way downstairs. He ran to his bedroom’s sliding glass door, slid it open, and ran to the edge of his balcony. It was there where he could see his 7-year-old nephew struggling to stay afloat. Metaphorically, his nephew was USC football, swimming in a pool of relevancy. Josh knew what he had to do. He had to be the hero for not only his nephew, but for USC football as well.

Josh ripped off the shirt he had just put on. (I mean, he doesn’t want to get it wet. He paid a good .55 cents for that bad boy.) He then yelled down to his struggling nephew, “Hold on! I’m coming!” Josh put one foot up on the railing of his apartment balcony, when time suddenly seemed to stand still. A million thoughts began racing through Josh’s mind.

“That pool is a far ways away. Can I even jump that far?”

“What if I get hurt? Could this potentially ruin my football career?”

“Did I remember to get one of the tutors to take my World Economics final exam?”

Josh then realized, this is no time to think. He knew if he didn’t act immediately, his nephew would drown, and Josh wouldn’t be able to live with that on his conscience for the rest of his life. He put his other foot on the railing of his apartment balcony. Naturally, a million more thoughts went racing through his mind again.

“I don’t know. Now that I’m up here, that pool does seem too far for me to jump to.”

“Maybe I should just let the little twerp drown. I mean, he did just scratch up my XBox controller.”

“I still don’t understand half of the things Ed Orgeron used to say. His voice is so deep.”

Josh shook his head. Erasing all of the thoughts and any doubt he had. This was the moment. This was the moment he would save the life of his sister’s 7-year-old son. Josh bent his knees, collecting as much strength as he could. This jump would be the second most important jump of his life. (Second only to the jumps he’ll take at USC’s pro-day this upcoming offseason… amirite?!) Sweat collected on his upper brow, as he clinched every muscle in his body. In an instant later, his body uncoiled like a spring, and Josh Shaw was airborne. Like a dove flying off to the blue skies overhead, Josh took flight. His body became fully extended as he soared through the smog-filled, late-August Los Angeles sky. Josh knew what he was doing was right. He knew he was going to save the life of his drowning nephew. He knew…

He landed too short.

Crap.

From three stories high, Josh landed about 13-feet away from the pool, crushing both ankles. Seriously, the crunch was like a sound effect straight out of a SAW movie. A sharp pain shot through Josh’s body, numbing him for an instant. Both ankles were shattered. “Why did I jump from a third-story balcony?” Josh thought. His morale was nearly as deflated as one of the footballs Lane Kiffin tried to his ball boys to sneak into USC games. But there was no time for regret. Josh still had a mission to accomplish. He could hear his little nephew screaming and struggling to keep his head above water. Why does a 7-year-old not know how to swim? That’s an argument to be had with Josh’s sister at a later date. Not while Josh lie on the poolside pavement in wincing pain. But Josh can attest, the screaming is getting a little annoying. All his nephew had to say was, “Hey! I’m drowing.” once. That’s all it takes. It’s not like, on his pursuit to save his nephew’s life, Josh was going to forget that he was drowning. But again, that’s another argument for a later date. Josh had to overcome the adversity to complete the task at hand.

Josh gathered his composure. His ankles still hurt more than a recently-single girl listening to Adele alone in her bedroom. He used his arm strength to begin army crawling toward the pool. Slowly but surely, Josh began to inch his way to the pool. If this was the scene of a movie, epic music would begin playing. A shaky camera would show his first-person point of view. It would be a little blurry, and you’d hear heavy breathing. The screaming and splashing of his nephew would be muffled in the background. But this isn’t a movie. This is real life. Josh made it to the edge of the pool, and pulled himself into the water. Knowing that he would be unable to kick, Josh used his arms to flap. He looked like a baby bird trying to take flight, but no one said being a hero was supposed to be pretty. Josh swam to his nephew.

Josh’s nephew was flailing his arms around, worried these could be his last few moments on earth. He did not notice when Josh swam up to him, even though Josh wrapped both of his arms around him. You could tell he didn’t notice, because he continued to flail. He flailed like one of those blow up flailing arm guys in front of used car dealerships. “Stop hitting me in the face!” Josh yelled. The flailing didn’t stop. “You’re hitting me in the face! Stop it! I’ve got you. I’m trying to save you.” Josh yelled louder. The flailing didn’t stop. Josh’s nephew was scared.

Josh began to contemplate leaving his nephew behind and letting him drown. He did, however, scratch up his XBox controller. Josh could fabricate a lie, saying he just couldn’t make it in time. But as immediately as that thought crossed Josh’s mind, he nixed it, because Josh isn’t a liar. He doesn’t fabricate stories to alter the truth. He plays the hand he is dealt, and right now, his hand has been dealt his obnoxiously drowning little nephew.

Josh swam his nephew to the edge of the pool and propped him up on the side. He then swam over to the steps of the pool to crawl himself out. Josh was out of breath. He needed to rest. He needed to heal. He needed anything but the heros welcome he would soon receive.

Josh showed us first hand that selflessness does more for the world than selfishness.

Heroes in this world come in all shapes and sizes; from the dweeby guy at the movie theater box office window who let you buy a ticket to an R-rated movie, even though you were underage, to substitute teachers who would allow you do anything in class, despite the lesson plan that was left for them.

However, today, our hero came in the form of a 6-foot 1-inch, 200-pound collegiate athlete who jumped off a third-story balcony to save the life of his 7-year-old nephew, who was drowning in an apartment complex-sized pool that was apparently too deep for him to swim in to begin with.

Josh, today you are our hero.

Josh Shaw’s and Josh Shaw’s Attorney’s New Story:

Josh lied. He broke into his girlfriend’s apartment, and injured both ankles jumping from a third story balcony. As of right now, there is no criminal intent, just morbid stupidity.

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This post was created by Austin. You can follow him and his jokes on Twitter: @TheAHuff

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