Thu 8 Sep 05

And while we’re on the subject of dogs shredding things. Trammell and Taylor got ahold of my old high school wrestling head gear last night. Obliterated. Scattered across the basement floor in a flurry on teeth and growling, I’m sure. I had a 100 plus wins in that head gear. And a 100 plus memories to go with it. I wrestled in conference championships, district, regional, and state finals. I sweated my tail off through hundreds of high school practices and dozens of college practices. I had, what I still claim to this day to be, the greatest single moment of my life in that head gear. It hung proudly on my hip on game day and on my wall in off season as motivation. It was ugly and battered, but it fit like an extension of my body and never once snapped off my head in the heat of battle (like the fancy new one I briefly replaced it with senior year). But then how can a couple of one year old dogs ever know all this? Looked like a toy to me! I didn’t even yell at them. Just gathered up the pieces, swept a few memories through my head, and tossed the scraps into the trash. Glory days, right? Moving on…

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