"So how was the draft?" My husband asked me when I returned from Sunrise, road-weary and still slightly hungover.
I hesitated before replying, truly thinking about it for the first time. When I was in the middle of it, I was caught up in the intensity of watching lives get altered by a few words on a stage. Afterwards, I realized just how...frikking...weird this is.
When I headed down to Sunrise, it was my first journey down the Atlantic Highway into the belly of the Everglades. It was my first venture into the heart of a sports ritual that was so reality-altering that even the prospects had no words for it.