ARTICLE #39 [First published in December 1991 Chicago Point]
|Lifting The Cover
I thought I played much better than that. I gave it my best shot but it still wasn’t enough. Maybe I just ain’t got it -- what it takes to compete with the big boys. The minute I thought I was Mr. Big, they had be by the short hairs.
Did I give it away? Get rattled and choke? It’s hard to tell. You don’t always see those things when your head is being handed to you.
My eyes are open now. Can’t crawl into a shell and quietly die. Got to get my act together; get down to the “do’s and don’ts.” Time to kick some ass. Forget the crap. From now on, I’m doing it by the numbers.
You’re only as good as what you deliver. I forgot that for a while. Some dummies never learn.
This party doesn’t last forever. I’m buying into everything now because it feels so good.
. . . Or am I just being fattened up for something new?
Within the competitive nicety of backgammon, insecurity is often the lavished gift.
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