By MONTE DUTTON

Shortly after Team USA won Olympic gold in men’s basketball, I showered on account of athletic heroics on TV and the lingering fatigue of a late night in Union, and I hadn’t gotten around to it.

Then I drove over to watch Presbyterian College practice the art of football. The time between the basketball game on TV and the scrimmage nearby was perfect.

The Blue Hose open the season on Aug. 29, playing David against Mercer’s Goliath in Macon, Ga. I was there mainly to take pictures with my trusty Canon, and for about half the scrimmage, I enjoyed amiable conversations with the father of a PC freshman. He was similarly engaged in the art of photography, though concentrated on his son.

While the team was taking a break, head coach Steve Englehart joined us in the end zone to chat briefly.

A season preview strikes me a bit premature. Some will rise and others fall in the 17 nights separating Saturday from the Aug. 29 curtain rise.

Before and after the field time, I sat in the grandstands with 27 people and three dogs.

I was mystified by the paucity of people, but when I left, I discovered the women’s soccer team was taking on Truett McConnell of Cleveland, Ga., in an exhibition match.

Many more fans were there. The team was playing someone else. The scoreboard was on.

In Bailey Memorial, as opposed to nearby Martin, Stadium, I had been in one of my “little things mean a lot” mode. I wasn’t paying much attention to yards and points. I was paying attention to actions and reactions, body language and interactions.

Renewing my attachment to cameras after the NASCAR years, I cultivated this habit. Now, even when I’m not taking photos, I notice what makes good ones.

It’s a reason I enjoy hanging out at practices.

Now that I think of it, I spent all the scrimmage chatting with relatives of PC freshmen.

In the stands, I sat with Gene Simmons, whose grandson is a Blue Hose freshman. We must have talked 20 minutes about Team USA.

In addition to Gene and Clovis Simmons being two of the town’s leading citizens, Gene is on the Red Devil broadcast crew, and hence I see a lot of him. I know him to be a good chap.

I’m gearing up, too. Things are coming back. On Saturday, I remembered that when I walk the sidelines on Friday night, then do the same on Saturday, at the former game, I feel fine, and at the latter, I’m stiff as a board. It’s ridiculous, and I’m old.

It’s too early to be specific. Injuries occur. The unexpected can cut both ways. Some rise from ashes. Some backs are broken, figuratively. Wins pile up, as do losses.

With the closing ceremonies bringing the curtain down on Sunday afternoon in the States, NBC even let NASCAR race at Richmond.

If the driver who is in 32^nd place in the standings, is in position to win – and can only make the race-offs by doing so – what happened is going to happen.

Austin Dillon sure made the 3 car proud. He wrecked both cars in front of him on the final lap. It was egregious, so dirty it should have been a political ad.

Entering the overtime finish, I wanted Dillon to win.

Many years ago, at the Winston Racing Series banquet, I sat at the same table at the Opryland Hotel with Austin Dillon’s mom and dad. Mike was one of the regional champions in the national short-track series.

Twice I saw Austin and Ty Dillon race at 311 Speedway in Madison, N.C. It’s a dirt track across the line from Martinsville, Va.

Austin is now 34.

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