Say what you will, but this blurry shot (courtesy of my old partner in crime Dustin Miller) proves three things: First of all, I really did use to shoot Friday Night Football, though honestly I never knew much more than to simply follow the ball and avoid getting hit. Secondly, I wasn't born with a beard; it took years for me to realize the less of my face visible the better. And third, I was once happy just to be in the game. Yes, running up and down the sidelines of life was a thrilling way to spend my 20's. At 38...not so much.
2 comments:
Is that a mullet on your head?
Techically, yes - but one that would grow into a mullet of such porno proportions that the attached photo barely qualifies as such. What can I say, it was 1990 and I was jazzed to be out of the Navy. You think you're terrified? Talk to my kids...
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