I have a recurring, lifelong dream. And if I knew what was good for me, I’d bury it.

I’m talking about burying this dream forever, like a thousand feet deep in some impregnable tungsten box, guarded by giant Don-eating snakes so that I never try to excavate it again.

This dangerous, 45-year-old endeavor is for me to publish a statewide sports magazine. It would focus not on scores or statistics, but on the in-depth personalities of athletes and coaches. I’ve always wanted an outlet for my love of sports journalism, and I’ve always wanted to be an athlete (despite failing decisively). Besides, I could always use a legitimate excuse to watch hundreds of sporting events free and up-close.

I’ve pursued this dream twice. And I failed spectacularly both times.

My first effort was called the Colorado Athlete. It debuted in October of 1973 and the first issue featured a young boy with a football on the cover. Inside, were stories of Olympic gold-medal-winner Micki King, University of Colorado’s star running back Charlie Davis, Broncos head coach John Ralston and many other Colorado sports heroes of the day. In my estimation, Colorado Athlete was a great magazine. Sadly, there was no second issue. I went broke. Broke in every way imaginable.

Wisconsin Athlete appeared in 1981. It hung around a little longer, and featured such sports personalities as Bart Starr, Beth Heiden, Lynn Dickey and Hank Aaron. It survived through 1982 and then disappeared. I felt the “agony of defeat” again.

I’ve heard psychologists talk about the man who walks down a street and continues to fall in the same hole over and over again. Such behavior may even have an official designation in the new DSM-5 manual.

Was I foolish to pursue the same passion more than once? Was I foolish to stop?

I now live in the beautiful state of Nevada. Although sparse in population, I’ve noticed a growing, year-round interest in sports. Plus, there are new ways of delivering magazine content that avoids all those distribution problems.

Hmmm…