COLUMN: Bracing for the challenges that lie ahead

HOME STRETCH COLUMN
By: 
Pete Temple
Express Sports Editor

     (Sports Editor’s note: I originally wrote this column for our July 18, 2001 issue. Somehow it seems as relevant today as it did 16 years ago.)

     The time has come. Slowly, you rise. You walk over to the mirror.

     Once there, you close your eyes. You don’t want to look. Will you see what you want to see? Will your eyes have that glint, that fire? What if they don’t?

     They must have it. For the next several days you will be immersed in activities and tasks that will drain your strength and test your resolve. Mental fatigue will be a constant threat. Patience and determination will be required.

     Mostly, though, you will need that fire.

     You open your eyelids. There is nothing to notice at first. You move closer and study the eyes looking back at you.

     Yes, there is the hint of a spark. There is also something else – fear. This won’t do.

     It is obvious what is missing. You need the music. Country ballads or pop tunes won’t cut it. You need rock. Not hard, and definitely not soft. Rock.

     You think it over, and carefully select just the song to fill this need: the old Bon Jovi tune, “Wanted Dead or Alive.”

     You put the tape in the machine and push “play.” The song starts slowly and softly. The words come. They seem to fit.

     “It’s all the same, only the names have changed…”

     You go back to the mirror. Several moments pass.

     As the second verse begins, you feel a chill. The music is having the desired effect.

     “Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it’s not for days. The people I meet, always go their separate ways…”

     You look closer and notice something. Without realizing it, you have opened your eyes a bit more. At the same time the eyebrows have lowered. It is not quite a frown. More of a fiery glare.

     Now, your hands get into the act. You lift your right fist, and thrust it into your open left palm. It makes a smacking sound. It feels good.

     You do the same thing the other way. Left fist into right palm. Smack.

     The drums pound. The guitar solo builds. The music gets louder. The vocals return.

     “…I’ve been everywhere, still I’m standing tall, I’ve seen a million faces, and I’ve rocked them all…”

     Yes! There it is. The fire. These are no longer mere eyes boring holes into you. They are hot daggers.

     You feel another chill, and then become aware of the adrenaline surging through your veins.

     “…dead or alive, dead or alive…”

     The song winds down, then tails off. That doesn’t matter, because you are ready. The fear is gone. You turn, and reach for the camera.

     It is time to cover the Fair.

 

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