It’s not often that you get smacked in the face with a truth so profound that it makes you swallow a whole lot of words you have carelessly said in the past.
But it happens.
As it did to me, last Friday, on my way home from a match with my carpool buddy. We’d closed down the club, as we usually do, after a pitiful loss followed by a night of merriment with the team now that the big C is letting up a little. And under the light of the moon, in the dead of night (2 a.m. is one of those times that the world just seems a bit alien, amirite?) we were walking to his car.
‘Man. Dyou know it always makes me happy knowing I have someone to walk me to my car round here?‘ I said to him, while glancing at…
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