We exchange singles. Twice.
We take two in the fifth.
We give up two in the sixth.
We take five in the seventh!
It's over! 9 to 4 after the seventh end.
We go on to the next round.
We're in for another swing.
I was telling my therapist about it, and he downplayed it. He said, Don't take that winning too seriously or you'll get cocky and then you'll come down hard. He said, Don't let it get to your head. He said, You could as easily lose the next time, as win. He said, You're getting old man, you gotta take what comes, but don't take more than that.
I don't trust those therapist guys. They're like the Good Angel in Faustus's ear. They want to hold you back. They want what's "best" for you. What a load of hooey.
Dennis listens to his Good Angel, so he heads home to be with Ang. Seems reasonable I guess. Chris listens to his Good Angel too, and heads over to watch the Aces lose. I listen to my Evil Angel and stay in the club for two, but it's tough being a winner all alone. So I end up heading over to catch the last five minutes of the Aces season. Sorry boys.
Ride report
in: -16'C wind 10ks SE
out: -8'C wind 4ks SE
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