Such a remote chance of perfection

Kevin
Kevin Adshade
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Notes from while I was away…
Briefly last week, I debated whether I should attend the 3rd annual Harry Trainor Memorial boxing card, held Saturday in Westville. Not as a work-related thing, but to take in a night of amateur boxing (boxing is much better live than on TV, so I've learned). But the wife had other plans, and we all know how that usually turns out.
Oh yes, we know it well.
Along those lines, I am losing the battle of wills in the ongoing TV remote war. For a couple of glorious years I had the edge, but now the winds have shifted. The fear is that once that control has been surrendered, you never get it back because it's just easier that way.
I did decide to publish a picture today of Westville Academy boxer Travis 'Bubba' Leil, who took a blood-spattering shot to the schnozz but kept on truckin' in his match on Saturday night. I figure the guy deserves to get his bloody face in the paper if he has to go through all that in the name of sport.

Wimbledon is one of my favourite sporting events of any year. The green lawns, the tradition, the emotion as the world's best tennis players try to win the greatest championship in the game. Watching it all day (when permission is granted) is almost better than going to work.
It's funny that the tennis commentators keep whispering that Roger Federer may be slipping. Federer, who has won five straight Wimbledon titles, keeps destroying everybody on grass with frightening ease, but I guess if you're Roger Federer and lose a couple of matches, you're suddenly on the downside.

Last week I also went golfing with a local coach, who started with the greasy gamesmanship on the first tee. This time last year, we went golfing on the same course and I dribbled my opening tee shot about 30 yards to the right and behind a small tree.
So this time, the guy reminds me about that just as I'm ready to hit, and sure enough, I top this one almost to the exact spot, with a bunch of women watching on Ladies Day.
That felt spectacular.
On the next hole, he started talking about my tricky downhill lie (and the water hazard) as I'm about to hit a 7-wood. I flubbed that one, too and then a whole bunch after that.
It was hardly worth the cost of admission.

Kevin Adshade is sports editor with The News

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