The first, from a rival track coach, who also coaches basketball: "I hate track. There's no way to play defense." Today I got a copy of the heat sheets for tomorrow's state championship meet. Lanes are assigned based on the seeding times sent in for each athlete based on their prior performances. Doing the math based on everybody running their best (or at least all deviations being roughly equal), my boys look like 3rd. I've got great kids, but just not enough of them. And man, I hate third. Third is the first place with no trophy... and we've taken a bunch of thirds lately. If only we could play a little defense! Who knows, maybe we'll have some things break our way.
The second, a happier thought from Bubba, my barber: "You know the difference between a bad haircut and a good haircut? Two weeks." It's actually been a month since my q-tip-head cut from Roger. Today I saw Bubba again--high, tight, flat, and sharp. All is right with the world