This blog ballooned. As a result, I've put together a flow chart to let you know how and where the topics came from. The two rounded items are actually stimuli, and the topics came out of those events and/or my ramblings on the topics immediately rooted in those events.
Haircut
I think I need a haircut. It's getting a bit long, and it's almost lost the "flip" that made it so pathetically endearing for the greater part of May. I became so fed up with it this morning that I actually used a hair brush to batter it into shape. While that might not seem to be a big deal, I think it's the first time in two years that I've used a hair brush... but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Talking about getting a haircut makes me feel ridiculous. Like talking about getting a new job, or moving, or posing naked for a startup porn Web site... sometimes you just have to do it, rather than talk about it.
Since I've broken the seal, thought, I can say this: I think I've got a haircut lined up. Not an exact date, but I think it's going to happen before I go to Hawaii and I think it's going to be free.
Basketball
TM2000 and I shot hoops last night for 30 or 40 minutes. It was the first time I'd touched a basketball (other than the two that have been rolling around, 2/3 flat, in my trunk for the last 18 months or so) in some time. Like a year. Or two.
I was horrible.
Not that we were playing one-on-one or anything, and not like the park that we shot at (with its tight rims and sloping pavement ground) were regulation.
But I was horrible.
There aren't many things in life that I'm confident in. Standardized tests? Sure. My knowledge of late 18th century American politics? Probably. Basketball? Once upon a time, yes.
I went to a small school. Population-wise, I mean. I grew up playing soccer and baseball and then, in third grade, starting playing hoops. I lived across the street from our elementary school, and I spent hundreds (thousands?) of hours shooting baskets. Playing "around the world" by myself. Hooping it up with friends and my brother and brothers of friends.
My dad coached when I was younger and it was great. I was always one of the better kids for our grade, and our grade was pretty good. By the time I was a sophomore in high school, I was still on JV, partly because of the strength of the class two years ahead of ours... my sophomore year, though, I had my growth spurt kicking in and I actually had some muscles (where have they gone?)
Junior year was the first year that our grade all got a chance to play together (a pair of my friends had been bumped to varsity previously). We started off slowly, but eventually made it to the state tournament and then to the state tournament.
That week was, one two second portion excepted, the best I've ever played basketball. I'd cut my tongue in the postseason earlier, and I'd taken to wearing a mouth guard to prevent my teeth from cutting myself open, and I still have some sort of odd sense memory: I remember being a bit orally fixated on the mouth guard and I remember (again, that two seconds excepted) feeling a near-constant rush of adrenaline and accomplishment.
The first game of the tournament we were losing, as I recall, at halftime. I wasn't playing particularly well, but I was the third-best player on the team so I didn't really think much of it. As we walked to the locker room, I remember my friend Deek D.K. David Lawrence Bradley K. (last name withheld, but the number of nicknames on full display) looking at me, quite intensely (he was always SO intense before and during games... it usually made me laugh, but not this time) and said something to the effect of, "Shoot the ball when you're open! C'mon!"
In the second half I started shooting. And I started making. It was great. Confidence was sky-high. We went onto win that one. And the next one.
The semi-final game was one that continued to go well. We were up big in the first half, and I remember that in the second half—we were up by 13 or so—I had a wide-open three at the top of the key, and I shot it... and I missed. I remember our coach letting me know, "We don't NEED that." Which made sense... except I was open. And I knew I was going to make it.
Was that the two seconds that I felt bad about? No.
Those two seconds came late in the game. Our opponent had destroyed the lead we'd built and we had the ball at the end of regulation in a tie game. Our best player was taking his man off the dribble into the middle of the key, and I was sliding along the left baseline, trying to get into position for the offensive rebound. My shoulders were ¾ of the way to the hoop and only a quarter of the way to the ball and our best player, who I was confident was going to take the shot.
Of course, he didn't shoot.
My offensive rebounding position had left me wide open. I had sealed my defender off and when Grant had dribbled into the key, the defender on the top side of me had collapsed on him. Leaving me wide open. He made a wise choice and I love that he made it.
As I saw the ball leaving his hand coming to ME, rather than the basket (as I'd anticipated), I had to twist clockwise to catch the ball (since my shoulders were not facing him). I knew time was almost up, and after I caught the ball I found myself along the left baseline, sort of underneath the basket.
In the NBA, players take a half step and go up and dunk it. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't in the NBA.
I had the ball and sort of leaned out from under the hoop and shot without using the backboard. From about three feet away.
And missed.
I tried to get the rebound, but failed. The buzzer went off. Overtime. And a loss.
We cleaned up in the third place game. We sat through a championship game where we KNEW we were better than either of the teams. I was second team all-tournament. And I was frustrated and deflated and disappointed in myself.
It's been... hmm... 18 years. I'm still frustrated and deflated and disappointed in myself.
Including summer leagues, we went like 48-1 the next year. We won state. I went onto win a couple IM championships in college and (for a glorious week or two) could slam dunk the basketball.
But I still look back at those two seconds—the positioning, the catch, the miss, the failed rebound attempt—and it upsets me to this day.
Absent-mindedness
Yesterday I noticed that I couldn't find my favorite pair of jeans. Today I noticed that I couldn't find my black jacket. Who is breaking into my apartment and stealing my clothes?
I'm crossing my fingers that I left these things in my car—and it sort of makes sense. I've worn shorts several times in the last week, and I think I had the pair of jeans in the car as a backup. The jacket, though? Uh... I just dunno.
Mad at Me
Last Sunday evening I attended a birthday party and a couple of female acquaintances attended. Partly because I knew I had to work the next day, I didn't have the world's greatest time (I did have one person swear up and down that "she knew me", which was both oddly flattering and vaguely unsettling).
I also got the sense that the pair of female acquaintances weren't 100% pleased with me. They didn't spit on my food or kick me in the shins, but they were ... hmm... less friendly than normal.
The next day I mentioned it to ... and she thought that I was being paranoid. I don't know that she used that word. Maybe "crazy". Reflecting upon it, I thought it was paranoia and egocentricism.
This weekend, though, I confirmed that they WERE upset with me. Am I twisted for being more pleased at not being paranoid and egocentric than at being sad that people are upset with me?
The Weather
Speaking of twisted, Sunday was gorgeous. Tens of thousands of students were celebrating graduation, including dozens that I went to grad school with. Rather than being out in the sunshine, basking in the rays of el sol or our accomplishments, I was in my apartment sleeping.
I believe that I've expounded on this before, but I LOVE sleeping when the weather is nice outside. I know that 95% of the people that I might talk to about the weather would comment that I should be enjoying it... but I prefer to sleep as others are outside. I'm twisted that way.
Of course, just as I don't revel too much in the nice weather, I try not to complain about when it rains. I don't know if that makes me consistent or just boring.
Graduation
I received my MBA diploma thing some time ago, but with the ceremonies completed yesterday, I suppose I'm officially/finally done with grad school. For now.
I've thought about why I never really was excited to graduate the way I was with undergrad or law school. It actually felt a bit like high school graduation, although with that it had the novelty and sense of obligation that resulted in my attendance.
I suppose I felt a sense of inevitability. As long as I kept writing checks to Seattle U I knew that, eventually, I would be done. Is merely showing up a huge accomplishment? Not to diminish my classmates who are, presumably, seeing graduation as a next step in their life. For me it's been (to date) little more than another pending monthly student loan bill.
No comments:
Post a Comment