We were starting another one of those multiday training periods at Camp Shelby, Miss., in the early spring last year. The first day dawned cold and windy. The only thing worse was that we could see the weather forecast for the final day. Monsoon. OK, maybe not a technical monsoon, but heavy, heavy rain.
And so for two days, we dreaded the final day of the exercise, which included a mock patrol on a course, meaning lots of slogging around in a torrential downpour. I'd like to say that the forecast was wrong, but it wasn't.
We had a choice to make — just grit it out and get soaking, sopping wet or take full advantage of the wet weather gear available and try to stay kinda, sorta dry. I opted for the kinda, sorta dry and was glad I did.
I thought about that whole mess tonight as I wondered what the high school football players were thinking when they looked at the weather forecast earlier this week.
Were they thinking that it was gonna be fun slopping around in cold mud for a couple hours? Or were they thinking that they'd just as soon have a drier experience?
I don't know. I didn't play football. The basketball gym didn't leak, and if it was wet, we didn't play baseball. Of course, wet might be one thing. Cold and wet is probably another.
Oh, well, I'm just glad it wasn't me out there tonight.
