The Extradition of John Woolley

As an eighth grader at Burns Middle School, I was introduced to the man that I would come to call, "The Woolley Mammoth." I was on the academic team there and we were presently in the middle of a quick recall match against Pikeville when a white-haired, grizzly man comes walking in with a mug. "Sorry, sorry, our match just finished," he said. From that moment on, I began receiving the most absurd amount of papers and study materials from this man I hadn't even met yet.

The beginning of my freshman year was the first time I met him. He seemed to be a very nice guy. I came to realize that this was not always the case, especially when our quick recall team was losing or one of us missed a question he believed "we [had gone] over at least a hundred times." He would become very angry and occasionally cuss out loud to us. I'd never seen a man get so enthralled in the art that we call quick recalling.

Then it came time to go to ACE camp (aka. nerd camp) during the summer between my freshman and sophomore year. I found out in the midst of this camp that my coach of only one year had been fired. He had apparently slept in the same bed with Nick Miller, another student on the team, which was, as we would come to find out, illegal.

The one year I spent with this man changed me in a way that only he could change me in. And now he is gone, and I must accept the fact that he will no longer be coaching me but the fickle Owensboro High School Academic Team. As I write this, I reflect on whether I truly appreciated this man's contribution to my teen-hood memories, or I just find them genuinely hilarious. A great man he may be, a woolley mammoth he will always be.

Dakota

P.S. Wanna know more about the dude, drop me a comment. I'll get into the juicy stuff.