Poets Day US

30 years ago I lost a great friend and I have felt a little guilty about it ever since, not that I should, but I do. This is the often told but never written story of the last time I saw Sherilyn White alive and the words that she said that have haunted me to this day. First we need to give a bit of a backstory. I used to love to ride my bike, whether it was a collapsible bike that we used camping, my ever faithful Chopper with the 3 speed shifter, banana seat and ape hanger bars, my red Morrison Monarch whose frame I bent in a crash and never realized it till I got a 2nd hand Peugeot road bike then tried to ride the old Monarch again and couldn't, my Cannondale that I got rid of in 1990 after being told either quit training for triathlons or end up in a wheel chair, the Haro mountain bike I bought 15 years later that lasted 10 years or the Specialized I have now after riding the Haro to death. One of my favorite things was to be out on the road (or these days bike paths) headp

And the sooner you learn that the better off you are. A friend of mine posted on the book of faces about a girls youth bouncy ball game the other day and about the actions of the opposition, punching her daughter in the back at the end of the game preceded by scratching, elbows and dirty shots throughout the game......and that was just in the stands. Actually it was on the bouncy ball paddock (or whatever they call it) but it just easily could have been in the stands these days. My friend asked the question of whose fault is it for repetitive dirty play on the bouncy ball court, was it the fault of the referee, the fault of the coach but for some reason did not ask if it was the fault of the parent. The 'win at any cost, live vicariously through your child's athletic endeavors trying to make up for the failures in their lives' parent is a major issue for any coach of youth sport. The need to win every game no matter what mentality is (most likely - remember these posts