So you literally pick yourself up off the floor and ice your wounds. The surface ones are ice able, the aftershocks still waiting to be registered. Try, try, try and then try something new. How do you divide attitude going in from reality? Hard lessons are hard learned. How may “against all odds” opportunities are we assigned with our footprints? How many come on one more time, maybe this one you’ll hit out of the gates come your way? Is succumbing to the obvious accepting defeat? What is our need to prove fate wrong? When the transitional times come upon us we reach for the glimmer of perhaps this chance is our “eight card fit.” We theorize as we pack our bags, take out our rabbits foot and car service our way to destiny that this time we got our own backs covered. In aftermath reflection, as the aftershocks offer black and blues, we rein our sensibility in and say I think I will try a different sport.