When I was a kid there was a guy. This guy was more than a guy to me…more like he was behind God and fighting with
Jesus for second on my favorite people list as a kid. I would watch this guy just run wild and do as he pleased. At no point in time did I ever feel like this person wasn’t going to prevail and when he didn’t…I’d make an excuse for it to still hold on to the belief that he was invincible.
“He’s not real, its fake”, I was told much of my life. I did not care. this guy showed no fear. He tackled the people in front of him and didn’t stop getting what he wanted. Of course there was much adversity within the pursuit, which I’d have to blame the script, I never wanted to accept the fact that this was an act.
This is like finding out there’s no Santa Claus, no Easter Bunny, now my idol, my hero, my role model, and my inspiration was a fraud! I was “stunned“.
I understood, for some reason I didn’t care. I just accepted it for what it was but was still marveled at the scene. It was time in my life that my middle fingers felt like lightning bolts. Thanks to him.