The collective sense of captivation that the Olympics now seems to hold and just trying to be more active on tour has made me think a bit about sports. On the first day of tour, stopping in Columbus to pick up t-shirts, will and I played a fast game of basketball against Ryan and Austin. We lost by a point, but it felt good to run around before getting back in the van to drive the hours to Buffalo. My only basket was a pretty beautiful one where I moved into space around Austin, shot, and swished one through the hoop. I played horse yesterday afternoon in a well-worn court by the sea and while we were playing it made me think about the ideas of great moments in personal sporting history. I think that sports are a pervasive enough part of our culture that everyone has a few of these. These are things like the time you swung high enough on the playground swingset to awe your playmates, or the time you got the 4-square bully out with the eliminator, or the time you miraculously got picked first for the kickball game. For those who played organized sports there might actually be a goal in the big game or a sprint to the finish to outpace a rival. Will remembered his as the time he stole home base in a little league game or the time that his proficiency at sinking 3-pointers from the corner of the court got him the respect of two girls who were total ballers at his childhood summer camp. For me, I remember fencing in the woods with sticks with this kid I knew who was kind of a bully. At one point, I knocked him off balance and he fell into a creek. I ran like hell hoping to escape the repurcussions of my momentary triumph.