Yesterday, I was driving through campus, around the area of
the chapel, when I happened upon a group of people in the road. I thought it
was a tour, and I politely stopped. It wasn’t a tour. These people weren’t
moving. And then, I saw Mark Valentino, who was in the group. What a TREAT!
Tino is here for the week, along with others, to complete some graduate school
work. He came up to my car. “Coach!” he said, ever excited as always. “We’re
playing Pokemon. Have you heard of it?” Well. Yeah. Sorta. But, why were all
you schmoes out on the ROAD?
I would find out further details later, when I loaded the
minivan with my son Joey and his FDR cross country teammates for the New Paltz
Summer XC Series at Minnewaska. I call this the “punk brigade,’’ because they
are all high school juniors and seniors, and they are boys. Great kids, all of
them; high achieving students, hard-working runners. Just like the men I coach
at Marist. But, they are boys, and as a result, the conversations are usually steer
toward, let’s just say, less mature topics. My usual strategy is to put on XM
Channel 23, mellow out, and half tune them out. My ears still catch bits and pieces of the boyish banter. Among last night’s topics: Pokemon. Several
of the boys are currently obsessed about it. As I was shuttling them home late
at night, on a curvy, dark, back road in Hyde Park, I saw three individuals
darting dangerously across the road. Pokemon. Really? GET INSIDE ALREADY,
PEOPLE!
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