Embarrassing
A high school friend (thanks a lot, Adam) recently reminded me of one of my most embarrassing moments in life. I was on the varsity basketball team my sophomore year. We were pretty pathetic that year and more times than not, I played poorly. It was evident early on in the season that I had far to go before I was truly varsity material. One situation in particular emphasized this understanding.
It was the second half of an insignificant game. I'm not sure who we were playing but by this point in the season our coach was well aware that he was coaching for the future and not the present. Our record was well under.500.
I was a two guard but for some reason, I was bringing the ball up the court. As I passed by some middle school kids from the opposing school I heard, "EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR!..." I immediately freaked out and moved the ball up the court quickly. Just beyond half-court, I heaved the ball toward the basket in a desperate attempt at last second shot. It didn't come close.
Our coach called a time-out and as I walked over to the team huddle, I realized the game was in the early minutes of the third quarter. In the huddle coach screamed, "What the hell are you doing, Hays?" I pointed over at the pimple-faced middle-school kids who were laughing so hard I'm sure they were on the verge of peeing in their pants.
I was benched and to this day I could point to the very spot on the court where I heaved that ball...early in the third quarter.
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It was the second half of an insignificant game. I'm not sure who we were playing but by this point in the season our coach was well aware that he was coaching for the future and not the present. Our record was well under.500.
I was a two guard but for some reason, I was bringing the ball up the court. As I passed by some middle school kids from the opposing school I heard, "EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX! FIVE! FOUR!..." I immediately freaked out and moved the ball up the court quickly. Just beyond half-court, I heaved the ball toward the basket in a desperate attempt at last second shot. It didn't come close.
Our coach called a time-out and as I walked over to the team huddle, I realized the game was in the early minutes of the third quarter. In the huddle coach screamed, "What the hell are you doing, Hays?" I pointed over at the pimple-faced middle-school kids who were laughing so hard I'm sure they were on the verge of peeing in their pants.
I was benched and to this day I could point to the very spot on the court where I heaved that ball...early in the third quarter.
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posted by jch at
6:56 AM
2 Comments:
My favorite was my buddy Carl. We both went in at the same time but Carl still had is sweat pants on. As I walk on the court he grabs the sweat pants and pulls them down along with his shorts only to leave him at the scores desk in his jock.
I missed a dunk in college that went straight up and came straight down. Everyone was laughing so hard and I could only laugh at my self. As we ran up the court the opposing player said nice shot.
Well, I don't know what to say, Son, except "Good effort!" And you probably looked real good that day at school. Moms are like that! I don't remember those "horrible" moments but only those when my children were absolutely beaming from head to toe because they tried something and succeeded.
You know, Joe C, Dad and I have always been "proud" of you. There are so many things you have done well (excluding that really dumb shot from the basketball court), but what you're doing now for your precious family is far and above your greatest accomplishment. I know Ira's physical health is so hurtful at times. But you continually try to maintain some type of normalcy for Laura, Sophia, Ira, and yourself in the midst of turmoil and heartache. And there's nothing you've ever done that I'm "prouder" of than your growth and maturity and your relationship with God through all this.
I visited with Laura by phone this morning and she said Ira was having a good day....smiling some, getting stronger in his little "sit-up play station." She said you two were giving him some supplemental water to ward off dehydration....I'm thrilled that Ira's Mommy and Daddy are making good sound decisions about his care that none of us can possibly understand. As repetitive as it sounds but as powerful as it continues to be...there continue to be countless numbers of righteous men (and women) who are praying...and we know that "avails much." God bless.
And "Go Yankees!"
Love,
Mom/Gram/Glo
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