Two-time loser

Whoa, here’s another one of those clippings my aunt Bev kept and my cousin Kate passed along.  It’s about a track meet in the late ’60s, in which I was apparently thrashed in the two-mile, defeated in the mile “via a brisk stretch run” by the winner, and won the half-mile “after having enjoyed a helpful rest period.”

I think I might remember the two-mile (embarrassing defeats tend to stick in the mind), but I have no memory of the rest. Mostly, though, I want to retrospectively congratulate the reporter for making the evening sound like something that might have taken place at a rather genteel nineteenth-century athletics meeting rather than the scruffy events that I took part in during my college summers.

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