THE OWNER OF THE BALL
When I was growing up in Lima, Peru, in the middle 1950s,
a group of us kids would gather together once in a while
to play soccer in the
neighborhood park. I noticed that when one of our friends,
whom we will call John, got tired and quit, the game would all of a sudden
come to an end.
One day I worked up some courage and asked him:
--- John, how come when you leave the game ends?
Undaunted, John answered:
--- Because I am the owner of the ball.
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