If honesty was the best policyAugust 03, 2016

Michael seemed to be in a sarcastic mood, which made me wondered if he had been reading too many DC comic books lately. This was his way of dealing with the pressure of the coursework, but it was a different matter in this case. The summer was passed its midpoint, and he was anxious about it (or so I thought). It would be weeks before the start of the term.

My coursemates and I were supposed to forget about the university, but we would keep in touch during the summer. It might be the heatwave, which would put us in an indolent mood. In Michael's case, there was nothing better to do than to read the latest news. He wished some athletes were more forthright in their reasons behind their withdrawal from the Summer Olympics. Rory McIlroy cited the Zika virus, but my coursemate cited the fact that the golfer wasn't a contender in the majors during the past two seasons. I could have looked at him in a strange way if he were around during that moment. (He wasn't a huge fan of the sports in the first place.) These were professionals, and representing their home countries may turn out to be the last thing that they would do.

It reminded me of my uncle, who trained to be a swimmer during his younger years. He would like to turn back the clock and try to compete in the Olympics. It was hard to relate to his sentiments for a number of reasons. I wasn't an active individual. (Walking long distances was the best that I could do.) I was the least interested in sports. (I kept on wondering if I made the wrong decision of not going on a holiday this season.) I don't pay attention to the Olympics. (It would remind me of Coke, Nike, and Visa.) But I sensed that the Games won't be a Walter Mitty moment for my uncle. In Michael's case, it gave him another excuse to be sarcastic for the rest of the week.

Different subject, same attitude

I missed my housemates and our boozing every Thursday evening. We decided to meet the weekend before last, and I found myself in the middle of a (tennis) conversation. They didn't like the way Summer Olympics turned a Masters 1000 tournament into an insignificant event. They were exaggerating, as Novak Djokovic competed in Toronto. Either they wanted a little excitement in the ATP Tour or they missed procrastinating for their assignments.

David was begging us to make a bet. He doesn't think that John McEnroe won't turn Milos Raonic into a Grand Slam champion. I gestured that I wouldn't take part on it, as there was no certainty that the Canadian would turn out to be a fluke. It was hard to predict the future, which would include a summer without a heatwave. Besides, there could be more interesting topics. It won't be politics, not even reality TV stars who would do anything to stretch their fifteen minutes of fame. And then something came to mind.

I asked them about satirical titles inspired by Donald Trump. They gave me disappointed looks. David wished it was the best football books instead.

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