I know how much is wrong with sports.  And having started in 1966 I have more than a few of my best and worst memories tied up in games I have been in.  But I do enjoy that feeling of butterflies before a big game.  The miracle is that they are the same butterflies at 57 that were there at 18, 29, 35, and 48….although they may be a little smaller.  I’ve had wonderful moments.

Sport for all it’s faults has given me moments I still dream about 40 or 50 years after they took place.  I never would have made it through high school without getting 13 varsity letters…..a practice everyday and some sort of game every other day.  Two sports played simultaneously.  Anything that could keep me busy and prevent thought about self or how miserable life was.  Perhaps in the end sports for me has been a marvelous distraction and nothing more, but it was and is an essential part of what I am.  There have been catches, throws, and plays that I made that I was not skilled enough to make.  For just these fleeting moments I was perfect.  Better than I had the capacity to be.