In a small textile town in North Carolina, more years ago than I want to remember, there was a house and yard in a neighborhood that collected children from six to sixteen years of age to play. The children would swarm, sometimes as many as two dozen, to play baseball, kickball, hide and seek, old man kick the can, prisoner's base. Usually someone would volunteer, or be volunteered, for captain, to choose sides. When it was my turn to be captain, to choose the side, I always wanted the best hitter or fastest pitcher. I always made sure I got the fastest runner or the quickest and best hider. I wanted to be on the side of the one who could kick the can the farthest. I liked to win. I wanted to win. I was known to cry if I did not win.

In that same town I remember my grammar school days. So…