Stories with pictures and sometimes the other way around.
I look back at high school sports with fondness because most of us were still adapting to half mature bodies and unforgiving hormones. Raging pre-teens and big lights made football players look like gods and we all loved it. Made epics of it. The drama, the botched plays, energy spent on a cold field instead of writing a long overdue paper—everything that made the teen years exhilarating and perhaps too short to take in completely.
I revisited my Alma Mater and was astounded with how drastically its landscape has changed. Four years ago, this street at 10pm was a dark, slightly scary thorough-way, ripe with drunkards and obscene battle cries. Now it’s somewhere between Rockefeller Center and an aspiring Paris boulevard.
I imagine the drunkards will still be there though.