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The Men’s Downhill Brian Daly I’m watching the men’s downhill on TV tonight in the Games of the Whatever Olympiad and though to be honest I’m more into curling, I can relate to these dudes in a big way as they tear-ass down the slippery unforgiving slope. I’m threescore and ten this year but fit, thank God, though I can’t ski like these guys do, as my boo reminds me, at 100 miles per hour. Honey, hush your mouth! Victory to me, I tell her, my chin slightly raised, is not measured in hundredths of a second nor in some tinhorn medal draped around my neck but in whether I still feel like springing out of the gate in the morning, poles clutched to my sides, knees not quite flexed enough, wind streaking through my thinning hair as I set out to navigate the impossible course. It’s 9 |