Punxsutawney Phil popped out today and hit me with a stunning soul-jarring blow — it has already been eight and a half years since the story that could/would/should have been my meal ticket appeared on the front of the Times of Northwest Indiana sports page.
It received some dap — a couple of national honorable-mention awards and some blog love from the X-Files crowd — but I still can't help but think that it was a golden opportunity lost. I'll always stick at least part of the blame with my editor* for taking the teeth out by forcing me to cluster-bomb the first few paragraphs with the word "apparently" because my most brain-dead source claimed not to remember that the incident in question happened.
(* — Sorry, man...I loved working with you, but that didn't need to be done.)
But at least part of the buck stops here. I should have probably done a better job telling the story. Now, thanks to the lack of constraints on the Internet, I can take a quick stab at a rewrite. So I will.
Be back in a few. In the meantime, take a gander at the original. It still doesn't suck.
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