why did my buddy made this

Slipped right through the door gap onto the rough outdoor concrete. Wind hit fast. Immediate obstacle on the patio flank: a heavy clay flowerpot packed with coarse soil and brittle twigs. It crowded my forward line. I dropped into a wide crouch, set both palms flat against the gritty terra-cotta curve, and drove hard from my heels. The pot scraped across the rough cement with a sharp, grinding crunch, nudging out two inches and leaving a dark scuff line behind. Direct line established. The perimeter belongs to me.