Mike Vidakovich
As you read this column today, you may be convinced that I am just old and full of beans. The former is certainly true, and the latter most likely is representative of the truth also.
But I do believe that on the afternoon of Wednesday, March 31, around 4 p.m., a long-lost running buddy came back unexpectedly — if only briefly — to pay me a visit. I think he wanted to make a point, and to offer up a small dose of my own medicine for all of the good-natured ribbing I had dished out to him years ago.
He came to me in the form of a shadow.