i’m at halftime. i’m coming off the field after a hard-fought first half. there have been a lot of tears and a lot of smiles, memories both good and bad as i’ve been running up and down the field. i’m in the locker room now, trying to heal up–bandage up some wounds, review some tape, seeing where i went wrong and what i did right. i’m conjuring up adjustments that i need to make before i run back onto the field for the second half. once i come out of the tunnel, the field will look different. what i was used to, won’t be–or shouldn’t be–there. i’m sitting here, not only knowing that i have to make changes, but knowing that i am making some changes. albeit slowly. it may take a little time for the halftime festivities to conclude, and the band will have play and march for a little while longer. but once they’re done, and i know the adjustments i have to make, it’s back out on the field–a different field, and a different player.