Po's Peek at the Past

June 1, 1992, is a date that will live with me in infamy. That is the day I turned the big 4-0, and the day when I offered my son some pointers for his upcoming competition in the school's track and field day. Notice, I did not say, "he asked me for some help." Instead I offered, then begged, then coerced, and finally demanded that we go into the garage where he could pick up some valuable tips to better his distance in the standing long jump.

Dad and coach –

it never works

As a former track and field guy in high school, and previous head track coach, I thought, "who would be better to of...