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Coach Crissy and... capture

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My Lymphoma has now progressed enough to abandon one part of my neck as a tumor and engorge a spot below that to fight for and... Won’t be long now, I suppose.

So.

Coach Crissy.

Single most important conversation of my life did not actually involve me much at all. As I remember it, went something like this: “Put this on, get out there, yer gonna be great.”

THIS, was a nard protector, THERE was the baseball field we’d done nothing but fail on, and YER… was me, the difference. At a very young and impressionable age.

The result was I went out there and completely crushed it. How could I not? Coach Crissy, with the 70’s bell-bottoms all jacked up her fucking fantastic cunt the way they were. Yeah - I am GOING - to win. I will need to. I must.

We didn’t win much. But she was right about one thing. I was fucking amazing, well beyond Great. To this day I would wager I am da man beyond any upstart kid out there. I did all the things none of them had done before, put order to the universe. Didn’t matter, we would lose anyway.

And then I’d do all of that all over again.

Been doing it ever since.

“Put this on… get out there…. yer gonna be great.”

Turns out it's not a one-person universe. I am nothing without a team around me. Keep on swingin for myself? Whiff.

Never found a way to connect the two.

Me. Them. Us. It.

Quite an excellent Catcher but I did miss the ball a lot at bat.

*frown*

I miss you, Crissy...

 

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