I have bittersweet feelings about packing this jersey. I’m not a player. I’m a not a coach. I’m a manager. That means something to me. Jerseys are for people who work on the pitch. I may get shit done off the pitch… but I know I wouldn’t make the 30-player roster for this team. I’m okay with this. Managing plays to my strengths better.
I’m supposed to be packing my gold polo.
I didn’t blog about my experiences with the Argonauts this summer because I wanted the story to be about what happens on the pitch, not what I do off of it. But fate (in the guise of an exploding bottle of sunscreen somewhere between SJ and LA) took away my manager’s uniform, so I guess is as good a reason as any to start blogging about another quidditch journey.
Time for bed. I’m catching a flight to #OutlawCountry in eight and a half hours.
