Thursday, October 2, 2008

I chose poorly.

One time I was eating with my friend Diana, and she swallowed funny and got some soda down the wrong tube. As she choked and coughed I asked her if she was OK. Her reply cracked me up:

"[cough, cough] I chose... [cough] poorly."

That embodied several of the things I like about Diana. Ever since, whenever someone mentions that they made the wrong decision, I imagine her choking and quoting Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

Well, I'm remembering it again tonight, because it appears that with regard to what frisbee team to play with, I chose... poorly. With Regionals about a week away, the decision had to be made whether we had enough people who would go to make the trip worth doing. In the end, we did not. What happened to the 20+ guys on the roster before, who talked from the beginning like they'd make the trip to Denver? Why did we practice twice a week, plus conditioning, and take 24 guys to Sectionals in Phoenix if we weren't going to bother going to Regionals?

In my last post I warned what would happen if we didn't go... let's just say you should do yourself a favor and not bother hanging out with me right now.

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