I was watching Mr. Deeds earlier. John McEnroe was in the movie. I realized I share (d) a couple of things with McEnroe. One, he's a lefty. Like me. Two, once upon a time, I had a wicked temper on the sports scene. Although it softened quite a bit in my mid-to late 20s. Injuries do that to you. Yes, I was known to hurl a tennis or squash racket or two. That being said, you couldn't goad me into any Zidane-esque idiocy. Three, I have a similar build as McEnroe; slender. Four, I have a similar technique on my drop shot as my buddy - a tennis pro - once told me.
Despite these similarities, McEnroe was nuts. I never went quite that far. Except for one or two episodes. I once kicked dirt on a ref as he wrote in his notebook after cautioning me with a yellow card. I was then shown a red and asked to leave the pitch. It was my last year in elite soccer; a miserable season it turned out.
Not sure the point of this post though. Maybe I secretly yearn for you all to know me better. Or maybe it's the friggin gin tonic.
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