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The First-to-Worst-in-a-Month Fairytale

Born Boiler

Junior
Dec 6, 2006
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Halloween came and went, and suddenly the balling ended with a grass slipper. Left behind were fairy bad-mothers, donning Purdue costumes and uniting farces to begin a mad dash from living large in the limelight to the deep, dark cellar.

Close your eyes and make a wish … suddenly you, too, are on Purdue’s defense. Unveil all your offensive weapons, then stand your ground … three straight runs. Lather, lose, repeat. Stand by and watch, and you’re a lineman. Get a hold of yourself, or just toss your last care to the winds. And when the going gets rough, the weak get going, while the hangovers sleep in.

And, poof, all gone in a month. From league-leaders to cinder-fellas.

The wicked twists went from Lady Luck to lame zebras to the stuffy ruling class to their me-me minions to the disloyal serfs to the aloof administrators in their ivory towers who didn’t even want to come out and play-yay. Yes, it all stinks, and we’re all caught up in it. And not one part of it has anything to do with a virus that didn’t have to be handled by everyone else.

Change starts from within … providing someone has something inside. Want a formula for success? Look to October. For a slow-death nightmare, see November.

Ah, but take back the Bucket, then we all can say …
 
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