“You were foolish to attack Haisley.” “Oh, I get that now.” “She’s got forty pounds on you, at least.” Tonight, before I go to bed, I am going to replay that line in my head and snicker and be very disappointed in myself. “There’s no way you could’ve won,” he adds. “I know.” He grunts. My agreement seems to be pissing him off. He starts pacing. “You’ve got to compensate for weakness.” What is happening? This feels like a lecture, but we’re alone, and the dynamic is weird.
