Holy Shit, I Love Music Compilations, I Would...

The party wound down a little before 130am and the guys started to file out. Pineapple, Ell-tee and myself and our respective others were the only ones left. We all agreed that Doc and Clint had one hell of a send off. I waved to McP's bar staff as we all went outside. Pineapple and his wife said their goodbyes and he told me that he had hoped that we wouldn't have had a team reunion like this, but it was still nice to see me. He called me Slick before walking off to their car, his wife the designated driver. Ell-tee and his girlfriend, a different one than the one he had the last time I had seen him, were left. He told me to watch my six and keep twenty. I nodded, shook his hand and watched as he got his jeep. I turned to Karen and she smiled at me. One of those million dollar smiles, the kind that spoke a thousand words without any vocalization. The cab arrived and we rode back to the hotel in silence.We flew back home late afternoon the following day. It was good to be back home. Barely into the second quarter and thevisiting team's morale were smashed all but to shards. It was January, andever since Bartown's football team, the Beavers, - suffered their loss tothe Coxville Cocks with a score of 14 to 8 in the previous football season- it seemed that Bartown had since been suffering from a steady string ofbad luck in all their athletic endeavors when it came to facing theirlongtime rivals. The performance from Coxville's players, once considered "fair" by mostother team's standards, had since developed into something almostotherworldly in the span of what seemed like overnight. Their strength,speed, coordination, team work and stamina had grown exponentially sincethe last season, leaving Bartown's coaches perplexed, unprepared, andsoundly cajoled at their opponent's superior skills. This sudden drasticincrease in physical ability seemed to be exhibited most, no, solely bytheir African-American players. The vast majority of young men who made upthe.
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