My initial sporting education came from a man who swore he'd been a scientific boxer though his grand and broken nose suggested otherwise. This is my dad. Almost 83, as sportingly old-fashioned as a wooden racket, a man who can't remember the movie he saw yesterday but can't forget Roger Bannister who first broke four minutes for the mile and died this week.
"He was a medical student, you know," he says on the phone.
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