But on the other frontal lobe, I cannot deny the flaming syrups of ambition that boil through my veins! As an illustration, years ago, Pau and I were part of a touring basketball club.
In one of our squad’s excursions, we came to a small village in the Basque mountain country. There we stopped to refuel the team bus and dine.
It was a most miserable place! The town was tiny, and yet underpopulated.
Looking about, Pau spoke in wonderment: “Rudy, you know, even here there are men attempting to advance, to gain higher offices and competing fiercely with bitter rivals over who will be most eminent.”
My answer? “I would rather be the first man here than the second in Madrid.” And at that moment, I believed it!
A Basque proverb springs to the fore: “The snow falls not to cover the mountain, but so that a man may leave his tracks in it.”
And the same is true of the snow that falls on the basketball court. ¡Pum!
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