I had just been promoted to the first rugby team. It was a perfect, wonderful coming of age. My brother was already in the team, and my father had come to watch us. We went home, and my father died in front of me. Horribly, in about half an hour. He had a heart attack.
I'm a farm boy. If we need five people to haul in hay, we don't take one and just work them to death.
Cynicism is the easiest of all reactions, right? But it's also so disappointing and self-defeating.
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