We both went into the bathroom and produced urine samples, the standard practice in competitive table tennis. I was dressed in baggy shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt (all my t-shirts seem too tight - guess I’m wearing hand-me-downs from my brothers). Tuesday morning David showed up at my condo with a water bottle, sports pants, and a tennis tournament t-shirt. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen," Brad could have responded (he didn’t), the immortal words from Nicholas Cage in The Rock. "I’ll do my best, sir," I said to The Man. At Monday evening’s 24 gathering, as the ping-pong smack talk between local angel investor David Cohen and me began, Brad Feld took me aside, looked me firm in the eye and said, "I want you to beat him, you understand?"
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