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A while back at the end of the night at our local rec league, I found myself alone, with one 11-12 year old game to go. I scanned the stands, asking for a volunteer to help. None appeared. My son, age 10, was present, having played in his own game earlier. I tossed him my extra whistle, and he joined me on the court.
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I swear, Gus, you'd argue with a possum.
It'd be easier than arguing with you, Woodrow.
Lonesome Dove
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