They said it couldn’t be done.
A couple of weeks later, they did it.
I have been replaced.
Sigh.
Word is that the Sailors have found a willing soul to whom
to give both a day job and the team. Approval from the board should be
forthcoming in a week or two. I can’t tell you who it is because every
description I’ve seen spells his name differently and parenthetically
apologizes for it probably being the wrong spelling. It’s not someone familiar
to me, though. In other words, much needed fresh blood, in an activity that’s
seen a lot of blood-letting lately.
At least it wasn’t by a robot. But I have to admit that it’s
a funny feeling. Retiring felt sort of final, but that was undermined by working
backstage on about 30 tournaments at the same time. But knowing that a warm
body has been captured in the wild and will, if all goes according to plan,
soon be leading the tars down the yellow brick road without any need of me
whatsoever, is true closure. It’s not as if I were wavering or anything, but we
ended last year as always, and this summer has gone as always (and maybe even
moreso, what with my upped commitment to the Bronx), so it hasn’t felt real.
But getting new topics and not having the gobs over to the chez to hash it out is starting
to bring it home, added, as I say, to the new commander coming on board. I
have, for all practical purposes, now completed walking the plank.
Splash. Gurgle, gurgle
gurgle
gur
g
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