And now...

Mr. Sandman and Super Macho Man have been duly vanquished, and Mike Tyson awaits. In other words, finals over, law school done, and the Missouri Bar Examination stares me in the face, as it will for the next 42 days. Props if you understood the opening sentence. Sure, I am nervous. Scared, even. But, the meeting is inevitable, and if I am properly prepared, I should be fine. Not every barrister is a genius; I would like to believe that even as a novice, I should not be the dimmest light ever to be admitted to the bar. This gives me hope.

My preparations are more of a “scared straight” type variety. I mean, scared into legitimately preparing myself for the test. Save for catastrophe or personal tragedy, failing the examination would surely be the worst thing that could happen to me at this point in my life. How does one tell the village that he has failed? Especially when it seems like the entire village is apprised of his situation, and awaits big things from such individual? Can you imagine? “Uh, well, you see, uh…” Terrible. Not wanting to have to experience this scenario is enough motivation to keep me studying.

Still, this is a nerve bending experience. But, as a very confident friend of mine recently said, “I never considered failure as an option.” In fact, ain’t no need of getting nervous now, cause it ain’t but one way into this thing. I don’t feel no ways tired. Come too far from where we started from. It must be done. After all, Mike Tyson clearly is not the baddest man on the planet anymore. Just call me Buster Douglas. Or Evander Holyfield. Or Lennox Lewis. Or Danny Williams. Or Kevin McBride. Nah, you can keep McBride.