“The Older I Get…”

It looks like that opening haiku of a line is indeed— as my brother would say— the truth, gospel, and passed polygraph. Although I was a bit of an old soul way back when my body hadn’t quite caught up; therefore, I knew— or, at least a good idea— “what was up” regarding the way in which the world twists. I knew that I was entering into a competition where certain competitors already had a head start.

Didn’t make me bitter, bewildered, or depressed; I just realized that I had to push it a bit harder, smarter, and stronger. Mentally, I had to evolve faster than they could realize they needed to change the rules again. That kind of resolve has been bred within us for centuries. Sadly, most of us use these resources for selfish— and, even more detrimental: destructive— reasons. Despite living in areas at an impressionable age where those players utilized their gifts in the aforementioned ways I, however, knew that I couldn’t go that route.

But… Shit gets hard.

And when you’ve seen season after season of teams whose wins have come from deflating the game ball a bit or juicing in the pregame, the straight-and-narrow begins to look like a sucker’s route.

That was before I discovered “their book.”

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