I saved the sword in my pen for the incompetent coaches whom I stabbed through the heart with their bonehead calls. At 26 in 1977 I found seeing my name at the top of my regular column thrilling as I defied these machos. It was a mismatch between intelligence and stupidity.
I still find it invigorating when I feel that I have written something special and unique. Unlike an athlete who is finished before he even reaches the half-way point in a normal life span, I feel like I'm just hitting my stride at 70 in the year 2020.
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