While the traditional story of Trump's upset is that he had no real chance until he benefited from the debates,

WikiLeaks, and the Comey letter all at once, his real rise and started a bit earlier.

Clinton had led him by quite a bit after the DNC and Gold Star family's fiasco, but her advantage faded

fast after she neglected to campaign for the entire month of August, while the right unified around attacking her.

Later gaps in September, which include both the infamous deplorables comment and her 9-11 memorial collapse that marked perhaps the funniest day of any of our lives at that point.

How do we feel it, second?

It's feeling great.

What happened?

It's a beautiful day in New York. I'm feeling great. I'm feeling great. What happened? Speaking more to the speaking more to the latter incident you could see something shift when Hillary wandered out in front of a boutique cabinet realtor and mustered the now iconic words, I feel great.

If the campaign had personhood and the gift of speech, that's exactly how it would have sounded at that point in time.

Fans of Clinton World will recall one time Hillary's shadow warrior, Peter Dow,

angrily proclaiming to hashtag Hillary haters jabbering about the NYC weather,

I live here! I usually play outdoor summer hoops, and today was too hot even for a stroll.

I feel obligated to tell the audience that I laughed for 20 uninterrupted minutes when I read this story on my floor mattress that afternoon.

My face was soaked with tears. I got up and walked around because I had things to do that day, and I just wanted to get it out of my system, but I just fucking could not.

I would think it may not be that funny anymore.

But then I'd picture Dow with other Clinton men of honor like Sid Blumenthal and Lanny Davis, all dressed in John Stockton shorts and headbands while doing NBA Street jam moves, and I'd lap some more.

I'd hear John Podesta Bello pass me that rock, sucker, in my mind, and I'd lap so hard that I nearly threw up. I'd try to muster some resolve to force myself to stop. But then I'd picture

Hillary lazily sort of puking like a baby with car sickness, and it would

start all over again.

Outdoor Summer Hoops is the most beautiful phrase I had ever read in my entire life to that point,

and it still is.

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