Ah, how lucky are the lieutenants, the six-foot Junkers, and all the rest of the Don Juan clan!. . . The bookworm, be he ever so decent and clever, is really only pleasing to himself and a small handful of others. The world passes him by and beckons to life and beauty. . . to gay and handsome creatures to whom the hearts of their fellow men continue to turn.
Freed from the thoughts of winning, I instantly play better. I stop thinking, start feeling. My shots become a half-second quicker, my decisions become the product of instinct rather than logic.