My brother passed up on a job offer from a Mid-Missouri College. I mean, I don't blame him, but dammit I miss him. I mean, the guy got the cycling bug from me and for a year did Kermesses in Belgium while he was ostensibly "working on his dissertation" and his wife finished a Fulbright Fellowship in Brussels. Hell, he's finished Snake Alley, something I never got to do.
He's lived part of the dream that I never really got to live, and he's always been one of my best friends. Its hard not having him around. We can all say this, I think, but man, if he hadn't had some bad luck, I mean REALLY bad debilitating luck with injuries that almost put him in the back surgery ward (he almost had serious back surgery after totally f*cking up his neck in a 40 man pileup at the Quad Cities Crit), he would have probably been a pretty good Cat 2 for a few years. But that's life. Bike racing is about disappointment as much as its about accomplishing goals. I figured that out at about age 18 when I quit the sport and started playing in punk rock bands and just forgetting about the dream. But, we can never really forget about the dream, can we
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