If I remembered correctly, her name was Bonnie. "Wow, that's quite a memory. I was not that good and thought nobody would remember the old days." I co...ldn't believe that Bonnie was talking to me. She was a former cheerleader who had not said a dozen words to me in four years. Now, she was treating me like a long lost friend. "Sit down. What would you like to drink?" I asked. "White wine," she replied. "Another Coors Light draft, please." We began to talk about school, life and the world. The. When my father came into the room, I knew I was in trouble. He was theultimate macho man. He had been a three-letter man all through highschool, and only a knee injury had kept him from the pros. I honestlybelieve that he wasn't trying to relive his glory days through me; it'sjust that the only behavior he understood for a boy was that of a machojock. I am small and skinny, and always have been. I've never been goodat sports, and didn't like most of them - baseball being the exception.He had. More

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