Everyone knows Luke Wilson, the “gem” of the Pitch staff, writer of the "Luke’s Life" column in The Pitch. Everyone also knows about Luke’s obsession with the number 64. Not many people know exactly how that started, though.

This is not one of Luke’s made up stories, though. It does not involve drinking bodily fluids, crashing cars or awkward first dates. Well, actually, it kind of does. But the point is, the story is not completely made up – it is 64 percent true.

One warm spring day, WJ's track team traveled to Wheaton High School to compete in a tri-track meet. Luke was among us, and he was singing at the top of his lungs the classic, beautiful anthem about woman needing to get out of the way, “Move B****” by Ludacris. He was wearing his signature number 64 jersey from Washington Redskins defensive back Tarik McDowell.

Now who the heck is Tarik McDowell, you may ask? Largely considered one of the Redskins’ worst players ever, which is saying a lot, Tarik McDowell did have one fan: Luke Wilson. Luke, who grew up in the projects of MoCo, had what some might call a very deprived childhood. Without a personal hero to look up to and write his fourth grade essays about, Luke searched and searched for a proper role model.

On one glorious day, he found his role model, selling rocks to Wyngate students. As the police and S.W.A.T. teams rushed in, he saw Tarik run like he had never seen before. He saw him run into a barrage of bullets, firebombs and ninja stars. He saw him run by a police officer and grab his hat and punt it 60 yards. Sixty yards! He saw him cut off the police officer's ear…and reattach it! He saw him do things too ridiculous to print in this storied publication.

Thus, a fan was born.

Now Luke, who, despite being converted from Christianity at a young age following an unfortunate dairy accident, was a deeply religious man. Following his pre-race ritual prayer session, a crazy idea struck him. He would run a 64-second quarter mile in his race.

So there he was in the varsity heat among runners expecting to run a quarter mile in 55 seconds, jogging along right on 64 pace.

This is what he used to tell people, anyway. Some people think he just sucks, but there is a passionate group of people who believe that the 64 was intentional.

The next part of this tale - which chronicles track coach Tom Martin’s reaction to the 64 - is most in dispute among members of the track team. Some believe that he put his arm around Luke and calmly said, “That SUCKS!” Others believe that Mr. Martin stopped speaking to Luke, but that he is also the source of the several hundred dents in Luke’s baby blue 1964 Saturn.

There is so much mythology revolving around Luke and his stupid affectations. Here’s my word of advice to you: believe everything, because as someone great once said, “the truth is often stranger than fiction.”